


Bitter Betrayal

by IreneClaire



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Danny "Danno" Williams, Hurt/Comfort, Team, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 36,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneClaire/pseuds/IreneClaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Danny are put in jeopardy while participating in an undercover operation. No slash; heavy on the bromance factor for some reason. Prompt by CinderH which means this story is dedicated especially to CinderH!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CinderH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderH/gifts).



> I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended. Ever!

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER ONE**

Steve grinned to himself at the sound of Danny's hearty laughter. It resounded happily around the small gathering on the private island regardless of the fact that they were both firmly undercover in the setting. The two Russians joined in, as did Troy Sawyer, their undercover equal on the covert mission to put an end to an international arms deal soon to take place on Hawaiian soil. He, Danny and Troy represented the key middlemen tasked with bringing buyers to the Yakuza arms dealers. In this case, the entrepreneurial Russians were the deep pocketed buyers.

Troy had been under the longest and the FBI had every confidence that the operation would come to a head that very day after nine long months of introductions, negotiations and planning. At first though, it had been difficult to gain the core agent's buy-in, let alone his trust.

The man was a loner and he had become personally vested in his own deeply orchestrated role. He made it quite clear that he neither wanted nor needed help. The intrusion of two outside players not even part of his agency was met with reluctance and only an eventual grudging acceptance as his superiors made the orders an unequivocal edict. So with their knowledge of the Yakuza and at the Governor of Hawaii's particular request, Five-0 had become directly involved as the final plans were carved out and set in stone.

The loud laughter ricocheted again under the palms and this time Steve had to join in when Danny slapped Troy jovially on the shoulder. While Steve enjoyed an occasional congenial conversation with the man, Troy and Danny had slowly become better friends in the background of this larger mission. Danny proved exceptional at playing any undercover role and the strength of the genuine kinship he felt with Troy Sawyer only made that guise better. The Russians were enjoying themselves immensely and the seamless, uncomplicated relationship of their hosts continually kept them at ease.

Steve glanced over to the two stoic men standing well armed in the shade of the palm trees. Behind them, the yacht's dinghy lay on the hot sands. Beyond that, the beautiful  _Mariah_  bobbed gently in the deeper waters as they wined and dined the Russians for the first half of their business.

Marty and Abe were strong associates of the Yakuza. They possessed no last names, offered little conversation and even smaller personalities. Their well-armed and virtually silent presence on the operation was required by the dealer element for the obvious purpose of reminding the Russians and the American middle-men of exactly whom they would be dealing with long-term. To their benefit, the Russians accepted the severe presence of the two men with a noted tolerance and understanding. However, he and Danny were understandably leery of the unknown criminal element that they'd thus far been unable to deconstruct.

The two men did not participate in the afternoon's levity in any manner, shape or form. In fact, they had appeared to be mildly disgusted by the concept of such a lavish lunch on the private, very tiny islet. The plot of sand was so small, Steve would have classified it more as an elaborate sandbar if not for the few errant palm trees, ferns and spiky scrub-brush that managed to flourish.

Steve studied the men as they stood ramrod-straight in the limited shade with their hands folded neatly in front of them. Each had a semi-automatic rifle strung casually over their backs. Their unmoving military-like stance impressed him as they patiently waited for the elaborate luncheon to come to an end.

After a moment, Steve turned his gaze towards Danny who sat next to Sawyer in the shade. The two Russians were reveling in the heat of the day and insisted on sitting directly in the sun across from them at the large table. They're sun-starved skin was rosy pink and sweat coursed down their faces; but they were content and clearly enjoying every minute of the special event.

Coaxing his now well-established Yakuza connections, underlings had been organized in advance to arrive earlier to setup the fancy over-the-top posh banquet on the small spit of sand. Troy Sawyer had managed to convince them that the elaborate lunch would be a way to loosen not only their buyer's tongues, but their wallets. Without a doubt, the two Russians were duly impressed by the effort and becoming well-primed for the pending meeting with the Yakuza.

So, it was an oddly ethereal affair with an amazing array of fine china, stemware and food preceding them to their final private beach destination. It was out of place and yet perfectly elegant. But the meal and camaraderie were predecessors to even more elaborate business dealings. Within the hour, they would be on their way to a clandestine rendezvous with the primary Yakuza arms dealers for more formal introductions.

The plan was going down like clockwork and Steve slowly stood when Troy wiped his face with his napkin and sighed gustily in satisfaction.

"Shall we?" His friendly smile and calm nature kept the Russians completely relaxed. They too rose to their feet and Steve sensed the relief from Abe and Marty as they walked to the dinghy.

The party was over and the more critical components of phase two were about to begin.

With a grand smile, Troy announced their departure back to the  _Mariah_. "Gentlemen. Shall we go now and rendezvous with our very kind benefactors?"

Steve hung back as their guests boarded the now floating dinghy first, followed then by Abe, Marty and Danny.

He nodded in acceptance of Troy's ongoing, casual demeanor and he hesitated briefly to indicate that the primary agent board the small boat before himself.

"So Steve. Let the games begin?" The coy whisper was risky at best with the mixed company and Steve briefly frowned in disapproval at the back of Troy's head. However, it was the underlying tone and the way Troy almost sarcastically stressed his name that suddenly bothered Steve the most.

Turning quickly to catch the mooring rope Steve tossed to him, Troy's face hardened for a moment before relaxing to a familiar boyish expression. It happened so quickly, Steve questioned what he thought he'd just witnessed. Waving his hand, he gestured happily for Steve to get on the dinghy so they could leave.

"Ready? Let's not take all day!" Steve narrowed his eyes at the too quick chameleon-like changes before joining the group and departing the beach for the  _Mariah_. With his back briefly to Danny, his partner missed the odd exchange with Sawyer but he caught Steve's seriously puzzled eyes when Steve took control of the tiller for the outboard motor.

The mental shrug but sense of something possibly being wrong was shared instantaneously. Following the unspoken lead, Steve noticed that Danny stared long and hard at Troy Sawyer before smoothly recovering. Seconds later, he had rejoined the friendly banter with the Russians and Sawyer while Steve silently piloted them all back to the large yacht.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	2. Chapter 2

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER TWO**

The sound of the faintly muffled gunshot brought Steve surging to his feet. But a solid warning wall of pressure created by the muzzle of the rifle which was held to his temple forced him back down again.

"Lace your fingers. Behind your head." Abe warned him and Steve grudgingly complied. "Sit. Don't move."

"What are you doing Troy? What is this about?" He glared at the two smiling Russian businessmen that they had just dined with on the private island. Events on board the  _Mariah_  had taken a serious turn for the worse just fifteen minutes after reconvening on the large yacht which had been anchored just off shore. It validated what Steve had experienced and then quickly became so much worse than he had anticipated.

With Danny below on the pretense of needing to change his shirt, Steve had been strongly manhandled outside of the main salon when Abe put a gun to his temple. In seconds, he'd been relieved of his weapon and shoved roughly into the blazing sun on the main deck. What they missed was his long knife that lay sheathed on the inside of his left calf. It itched against his skin as he measured and weighed his limited options.

Troy Sawyer was now in complete command of the  _Mariah_  with the Yakuza gunmen and the Russians acting astonishingly deferential in their treatment of the American who originally had been nothing more than the primary middleman to bring two diverse dealer and buyer factions together.

The ex-agent shrugged as Marty strolled up blithely from below decks wiping blood off his hands on an old rag.

"Sorry, boss. He objected to his new quarters."

The  _he_  in question was Danny who had been below decks alone when Troy made his move. Trapped and unable to warn his partner, Steve had assumed Marty would merely bring Danny back up. Instead, the heavily armed Yakuza representative had been gone far too long and a single gunshot had rung out from the lower berths. Steve tried once more to move forward as concern flit across his features and he watched the soiled towel get tossed casually to the side.

"What did you do to him?" This time, metal hit skin as he received a hard warning rap against his head which brought tears to his eyes. His interlocked fingers tightened in response as he forced himself to remain seated.

"Sit. Or you're next." The continued warning was clear as Marty joined them on deck and Abe used the gun on his temple for a second time. "Shut up and sit there!"

"Back off!" Angrily, Steve tried to grab and punch the gun away and with one quick motion, Abe swung the stock into his chin to reinforce Marty's advice. Dropping to one knee, Steve spat out blood as he regained his feet only to be heavily pushed back into the vacant lounge chair. Before resentfully putting his hands back on his head, he cleared the bit of blood from his lip by smearing it on his forearm.

"What did you do? Where's Danny?" He growled his demand at Marty who now, completely ignored him to move protectively near Troy Sawyer. Besides the obvious nature of the act, the use of the word ' _boss_ ' wasn't lost on Steve either.

"GPS is disabled as you requested, along with the radio and any other tracking devices. Our  _friend_  is currently otherwise occupied and out of the way. Let me know when you've decided what to do with him." Marty's bland words explained his further delay in coming up to the main deck.

"Good." Troy nodded his approval as he patted the chairs next to him for the two Russians to relax in kind. "I'll make that decision soon."

Frustrated and worried about Danny, Steve clenched his fingers into his hair as the muzzle of the rifle threatened him and Troy additionally declined to provide any immediate answers. Instead, the ex-agent checked the time on his watch.

"Cut the engines and drift for thirty minutes. We're going to be much too early." Motioning up to the pilot, the engines were shut down while Troy sank peacefully back into a comfortable lounge chair. The two Russians followed his example in the shade of the large cabin while Steve heaved in a breath that refused to settle his rising nerves.

"What the hell is going on here, Sawyer." He ignored Abe's shifting stance which meant to threaten him into silence.

"Who do you really work for?"

His former undercover colleague grinned happily as he shaded his eyes from the sun's glare to study the irate Five-0 Commander.

"I work for a very, very special friend of yours, Steve. Someone you've known for quite some time." Sawyer grinned happily before reaching into the large refreshed ice-filled cooler for three bottles. He blithely handed one to each Russian and then kept one for himself. After a long satisfying pull, he smiled directly at Steve before completing his explanation.

"Wo Fat."

The two words shocked Steve to his core and this time he made to his feet before Abe could react. With a loud warning, Abe roughly shoved the rifle into Steve's chest as Marty strode forward to stand between him and his boss.

"Sit. Down." Marty's words were punctuated by a rapid fist to Steve's mid-section that effectively did the job for him. Coughing around the pain in his gut, Steve worked hard to control himself as his eyes promised Marty a one-on-one fight the man wouldn't likely survive.

"Whenever you'd like." The whispered acceptance readily matched the challenge in Marty's eyes as he grinned down at Steve's furious face. "But only after Troy and our mutual benefactor are done with you. That is, if there's anything left."

The exaggerated and very bored sigh from behind the men came from Sawyer as he idly waved his hand in the air. Though he was experiencing it first hand, Steve was shocked by the extreme metamorphosis.

"Enough. Everyone should sit while we bide our time for the real rendezvous and exchange of property." The last word was directed at Steve before Sawyer's laughing eyes disappeared behind another long pull on his bottle.

"I gather that I'm the property?" Troy's approving laughter validated Steve's astute comment as did the happy clap of his free hand on one knee.

"Excellent! This will be more entertaining than I had originally anticipated!" The man's face had changed into a frightening cynical mask as he leaned forward from his shaded perch.

"We leave in less than thirty minutes. You will be delivered to Wo Fat. Alive." He leveled a measured glare at Steve before adding a final threat.

"The condition of your presentation though is entirely up to you."

They sat together in utter silence after that vow and Steve couldn't help the constant glances he took towards the steps leading below deck. Marty had a sick smile glued to his face as Steve sat sweating heavily in the hot sun. After a casual wave to the yacht's captain who stood high on the bridge, Steve sensed the engines of the large yacht come back to life. He looked up quickly when Troy tapped his watch and then pointed for Marty to go below.

"Bring him up. It's time to lighten the load and move on." With a final grin for Steve's benefit, the big man strode past his boss to slide agilely down the short staircase. Abe shifted to remind Steve that he'd not hesitate the next time in putting at least one bullet in him should he attempt to move.

A few minutes later, Steve anxiously eyed his barely upright partner who was gray in the bright sunlight and leaning heavily in Marty's brutal hands. His right pants leg was soaked in dark blood despite the old piece of cloth that Danny had tried to tie off as a tourniquet. It was obvious that he wasn't able to bear any weight on the injured leg based on the severe tilt of his upper body.

To Steve's dismay, the wound still seemed to be bleeding sluggishly. "Danno?" He boldly ignored the annoyed looks as he questioned his partner's condition.

"How are you doing?"

"Hey." The weak attempt at conversation was cut off as Marty tightened his grip on Danny's arms that he held in a vice-like grip behind his back. It was obvious by the look on Danny's face that he was equally relieved to see Steve in one whole piece, albeit subdued and with a bruised and bloody face. However, he was baffled by Sawyer's complete change in persona.

The pained wince and wan complexion communicated enough for Steve to know that Danny hadn't been exactly faring well in the too long thirty-minute block of time since he'd been shot. His shirt was soaked in sweat and clung to his chest as weary eyes struggled to stay open in the glare of the sun. He growled a soft warning for Danny to keep his mouth shut, but that was to no avail as his perplexed partner addressed his former friend.

"This wasn't the shin-dig I expected, Troy." Danny's voice was hollow with pain and fatigue as he tried to catch up to the ever-changing circumstances. He didn't understand the shared look between Troy and Steve as he assumed only half the truth. He clearly didn't understand the place of honor Troy Sawyer seemed to have on deck as he was flanked by the deferential Russians.

"You're the mole for the Yakuza and this arms deal? Never would have guessed .. never would have guessed you had it in you." Trying to stay upright, Danny grimaced and Steve tried to warn him once more to stay quiet.

"But why ... why would you sell us out like this?" The added emotional betrayal was something only Steve adroitly picked up on. Danny and Troy had become close friends over the prior months as the case came to a head and the mission was crafted to fruition. This unexpected double-cross was hitting him hard and he swayed weakly on his feet as he waited for Sawyer to confirm his assumptions.

"I must admit, Troy, my friend. You are good. A real class act." That feeling only escalated when Troy angrily advanced on the injured man and Marty tightened his already brutal hold.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" Steve's shocked fury knew no bounds when Troy Sawyer strongly backhanded Danny across his face as way of reply. He rocked in Marty's hands and then sagged weakly forcing the big man to physically keep him on his feet. Blood poured down his cheek immediately from the cut the ex-agent's expensive gold ring caused and Danny gasped at the violence of the unexpected blow.

"Troy." Danny shook his head to clear the dark bleakness that nibbled at the outskirts of his vision. There had been a rather significant change in plans as he forced his eyes to remain open. "Troy? What's ... going on?"

Glancing once at the horizon, then the waves, a smile spread across Troy's face. Danny missed the subtle cock to Troy's head which afforded Marty time for a gleeful, knowing grin as he hoisted Danny higher in his strong hands before he could sag painfully down towards the deck.

"Sawyer! No - stop!" Steve hadn't missed it though and his shout was cut off as Abe slammed the stock of his rifle once, then twice into Steve's stomach. He fell to both knees gasping before trying to struggle back to shaky feet.

"Hang on,  _Danno_." Marty crowed sarcastically as he pawed Danny's biceps and with one single motion, simply heaved the smaller, weakened man over the rail of the  _Mariah_. It happened so quickly, even the Russians seemed stunned as they rose to their feet in apparent surprise.

"Say good-bye, Detective." Troy laughed as Danny's body disappeared from view over the side and a distant muffled splash reached their ears on deck.

"No! Danny!" Still coughing around the pain in his gut, the semi automatic weapon leveled directly at his chest at first prevented Steve from moving forward. Helplessly, his hands convulsed in a vain out-stretched motion as Troy laughed again. Marty was grinning as he peered over the side of the Mariah and watched until he couldn't see Danny's tumbling body anymore in the rough wake of the yacht.

"Danny!" Steve glared in shock at their supposed friend and colleague as Troy wiped the laughter from his eyes. Steve's words were bitter and laced with a new found hatred as he struggled to control himself and make his next methodical killing move count well.

"Sawyer .. what the hell are you doing!"

"My job, Commander. As I stated earlier, I needed to lighten the load."

The man barely finished his sentence. Sawyer and Marty quickly became Steve's secondary targets as he surged forward regardless of the danger to himself. Focusing on Abe, his sudden move surprised everyone as he grabbed the barrel of Abe's weapon. Using size, strength and the element of surprise, Steve pulled the rifle towards himself knocking its owner completely off-balance.

The man's neck met his hands and was broken in one smoothly practiced motion. Instead of allowing the body to fall, Steve used it to shield himself and the weapon he now possessed from the threat of Marty's gun.

"Don't kill him!" Sawyer screamed in anger as he tried to save his human debt for Wo Fat.

Snarling, Steve swung Abe's rifle at Marty with every intent to take down the big man who had thrown his partner over the side of the rail. But he came up quickly as a hand fisted deeply into his hair from behind and a knife fell against his left ear warningly. The two Russians had quickly come up and one now held the razor-sharp weapon directly to Steve's ear. Slowly, Steve was forced to release Abe's dead body and it slid into a boneless heap to the  _Mariah's_  deck. However, he was still loath to drop the semi-automatic weapon as the stand-off continued.

Amused by what had just occurred, Sawyer had the gall to drawl out the demand as the Russian's knife dug into the soft flesh behind his ear. "Drop the weapon, Commander."

With a deliberate slowness, the Russian made a sharp arc drawing blood from the base of Steve's ear and deeply up into his hairline. He realized with a start that the Russian knew precisely what he was doing and exactly where the most sensitive nerves lay when a white hot heat followed the motion. As his head was pulled back mercilessly by his hair and more firmly into the blade, Steve couldn't hide the pained gasp. And Marty chuckled as he wrenched the semi-automatic from Steve's hands.

"I'm going to kill you!" Aiming his words first at Marty, he repeated himself for Troy Sawyer's benefit. "I'm going to kill both of you."

Steve's breath caught in his throat as the knife dug even deeper; this time into the nape of his neck nearer his spine. It wouldn't take much to hit bone. His spontaneous reaction made Sawyer grin happily at his three remaining cohorts. Under their feet, they could all feel the  _Mariah_  accelerating and churning white water whipped up in their wake.

"Sawyer, so help me god." Steve ground out his threat as more blood dripped from the newest wound. They were leaving Danny behind without a single chance for rescue or survival.

"You'll live minus an ear, but you will live. So I'd suggest holding still." Sawyer's evil eyes glittered happily up at him.

"Sergei also enjoys this particular type of torture. He is quite skilled in just where and how to fillet skin and muscle from bone."

Trapped and bleeding from the precise slicing wounds, Steve froze as blood dripped steadily down his neck to soak his t-shirt. But his eyes searched the blue water frantically for any sign of the blonde head as the yacht left the area.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	3. Chapter 3

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER THREE**

Only Steve, Sawyer, the two Russians, Marty and the boat's captain remained on their feet and Sawyer was wide-eyed with excitement and determined as Marty leveled his rifle at Steve's chest. It was hardly necessary since the second Russian had snugged Steve's arms firmly behind his back as Sergei improved his grip. The knife-wielding man only hesitated as Sawyer finally denied him another carving. An alarming amount of blood circled Steve's neck made worse by where it mingled with sweat. The dark ring on the neck of his t-shirt had grown significantly and combined with his time in the hot sun, Steve had started to pant from the nauseating feeling.

"I could also have you shot in order to control you." Sawyer promised as Marty greedily readied the weapon. "I vowed you'd be delivered unscathed, but alive is good enough. It's good enough for both of us."

"I'll kill you for this." Steve rasped out the promise repeatedly as he squinted at the fading shape which bobbed thankfully on the surface after an almost frightening delay. But he watched in horror as a large wave washed over the blonde head forcing it briefly from view again.

Sighting the sun and getting a read on currents, he mentally plotted a tangent course as he made plans to leave Sawyer behind. The tide had changed in a menacing fashion and he were sorely out-gunned. Steve would rather take his chances in the water and with Danny versus contend with Sawyer's intent to deliver him to Wo Fat.

"Kill me?" The sadistic expression on the former agent's face altered his original passively friendly demeanor. He leered at Steve as his men kept him trapped in a corner.

"Doubtful. I have a better idea, too. Frankly, I can't have you bleeding to death." The reciprocal promise was full of an unexpected egotistical cockiness and Steve bristled angrily. Neither he nor Danny had ever seen this coming and Troy Sawyer's duplicity was shocking after so many months of getting to know the man as a friend.

"Too many apples." Troy leaned backwards arrogantly with a shrug and suddenly his American accent was gone to be replaced by a sinister Irish brogue. He smiled broadly as Steve noticeably faltered.

"Recognize the accent, I see. Family runs deep, McGarrett. Though I abhor clichés, vengeance is mine." Then the smile left his face completely.

"But then .. Yes .. Truly, you know that as well as I. However, Wo Fat is only paying me for you. I have no need of any extra  _rotten_  apples."

The rifle was aimed directly at his chest but Steve smiled warningly as Troy reached into his pocket for a small black bag. He needed him alive and as Troy removed the syringe from the zippered bag, Steve fisted his hands surprised that Troy thought he would be able to inject the SEAL willingly.

"This is your better idea?" Steve couldn't help taunting Victor Hesse's kin as Sawyer smiled at the small vial. "You have to be kidding."

Steve hissed in pain as the Russian's hands tightened again in his hair and the knife dug deeper yet, but this time just below his shirt collar. He felt the blood pooling as another deep and very long slice was made across the back of his neck methodically from left to right. The pain was excruciating and he nearly dropped to his knees. With two behind him, a knife at his throat and a gun aimed at his chest, Steve was fairly incapacitated but making plans to escape as he intentionally shifted slightly backwards in their grip. But Marty noticed the ploy and came closer with a threatening grimace.

"Uh, uh, uh." Marty warned as he aimed deliberately down at Steve's right thigh muscle to mimic what he'd done to Danny. Wo Fat demanded him alive, but as Sawyer noted, the overall health of his general condition would be debatable.

"We can do this so many different ways, Commander."

"You'll need to pick one then." Gritting his teeth as the Russian violently pulled his head purposefully back into the blade, Steve tensed his muscles regardless. He couldn't afford to be badly injured or be injected with an unknown substance with Danny in trouble. He needed to quickly find an opening, neutralize as many as possible, and take his chances by getting off the yacht.

He watched warily as Sawyer tossed the leather bag to the lounge chair and readied the vial and empty syringe. Marty had yet to move as he kept the gun trained diligently at Steve's leg. Unable to hide the wince, Steve felt both Russians tighten their dual grips on his head and arms. The blade pricked his skin again and more blood streamed slowly down his back with his sweat to coat the length of his cotton t-shirt.

"Just so you can take a nap until you're safely delivered." Steve eyed the amber liquid that Sawyer drew back into the syringe. As he readied himself for the pending fight, Steve also was having difficulty rationalizing the utter change in the man who had spent so much time not only with his team, but personally with Danny and Grace.

"He was your friend. He trusted you and he doesn't have a chance out there."

The soft appeal wasn't entirely lost on Troy and almost to his credit, the man briefly hesitated as he looked out across the waters at the now distant dot. Taking a break from the heavy stresses of the operation, they had all just enjoyed a family barbecue together only three days prior. None of what was happening now made sense as Steve tried to reason with the man one final time for Danny's sake.

"Troy. He needs help."

The agent and Danny had seemingly hit it off from the start. Even Catherine had become fast friends with Rita, his wife, and the two had often gone shopping together. Troy's two young sons were near Grace's age and the three had played for hours on the beach. That fact alone had tickled Steve no end with endless jibes at Danny's odd allowance for his daughter to actually play with not one, but two boys.

Steve himself had liked the man and his family. The team had welcomed another family into their Ohana with open arms. This sudden change was more than Steve could deal with as he warily watched the former agent's much too steady hand.

He purposefully leaned backwards into the Russians again when Sawyer took a step forward.

"What about Rita, Troy? I don't get it. Your own sons. They mean nothing to you?" Steve felt a tingle of hope before it was dashed completely when the man's face lost its thoughtful expression.

"Collateral damages can't always be avoided, Commander."

He meant it for himself as well as for Danny. His wife Rita and his two sons were evidently part of that expendable umbrella and Steve couldn't hide his stunned expression. Heaving in an alarmed breath, he gave himself a stern internal shake as he stared at this new, unknown man. He saw then the faint resemblance to the Hesse brothers and things snapped startlingly into place.

"Sometimes they are most necessary to further a cause."

"At least give him a chance." Steve meaningfully looked to the yacht's small dinghy with his intent. But he didn't recognize this new person. The man they'd all become friends with over the last many months was gone and Steve knew the dire answer before Sawyer nonchalantly shrugged and uttered the one negative syllable.

"Hmm?" Looking dramatically at the blue sky as if considering his response, Sawyer dropped his gaze and leaned towards Steve.

His eyes were hard and unrelenting.

"No."

"Now what ... because I'm not going quietly." Steve allowed his anger to fully surface at that point and what he stated wasn't exactly a question. It was a promise. A promise that he would also take Troy and Marty down with him.

The former agent smiled happily at the threat, but then had no time to provide an adequate reply. They all pitched to starboard as the deck seemed to roil under their feet when an ominous rumble resounded through the boat's large framework. It happened quickly and without warning.

The Russians lost their hold on Steve as they stumbled and tried to find purchase on anything nearby to stop from falling. Taking advantage of the unexpected diversion, Steve pushed away and barreled heavily into Marty sending the man and weapon flying painfully into the railing of the shuddering vessel. His rifle disappeared over the side and he hung there for a moment squalling about his injured back before sliding to the deck where he rolled in pain.

"Fire! The engine's on fire." The pilot's shout made them turn to see the plume of smoke rising from below decks and Steve laughed out loud. There was a strong, mechanical odor and faint pops and growls could be heard emanating up from the inside cabin.

"Good job, Danno." He breathed out the compliment and smiled directly into Troy's stunned face as he fisted the syringe to keep from dropping it to the yacht's wooden deck. As the boat heaved, Sawyer lost his balance and fell to one knee.

Now Steve leered at the man as he started to move. "You shouldn't have underestimated him."

The loudest pop preceded the first explosion and the deck heaved treacherously pitching Sawyer backwards and then Steve didn't hesitate. Whatever Danny had done below decks did more than its job as the rear of the yacht exploded in black soot, fire and debris. The yaw to starboard continued until the boat was virtually on-end and Steve abandoned ship with a slicing dive as deeply and as far away from the sinking boat as another loud bang sounded ominously in his ears.

The concussion of the second explosion reached him while he was still under water and Steve allowed it to buffet him away and he came up swimming hard to give himself significant distance from the sucking vortex.

Treading backwards, he gagged from the pain in his neck and shoulders as the saltwater scoured the nasty wounds. The pain was dizzying and replaced the bruised ache in his gut. But adrenalin pushed it all away and he watched as Sawyer was caught up in the churning waters created by the sinking  _Mariah_  and he grinned happily. Seconds later, he was too busy counting heads to think of the wounds as the  _Mariah_  began to vanish from sight. The two Russians were swimming wildly away but not getting too far in their desperate fearful attempts to clear the fiery debris still raining down upon them. Marty was flailing in the water as the boat's remains loomed high over his head.

"Bastard." He said it aloud and smiled as the pilot finally followed suit. His shirt was on fire too as he hit the water from the last highest point on the large yacht and then momentarily disappeared.

Steve watched with a bland delight as the pilot screamed in pain and fear, before being pulled down to the depths.

There would be no survivors.

Except for himself, and god help him, Danny. Ensuring that there was indeed no other threat, Steve sighted the sun and remains of the now disappearing vessel. He ignored the continued pain and pushed down the biting nausea as he took stock of his location in the water.

Danny was in trouble.

That truth sparked another flush of adrenalin and he struck out hard in the direction he estimated the rough current would have taken his partner. Praying that he wouldn't be too late, Steve hit a fast, aggressive rhythm with only one sole purpose ... to rescue his best friend.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	4. Chapter 4

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Thinking that the Yakuza had taken over the vessel, Danny was shocked when Marty physically hauled him back above deck. He blinked into the harsh sunshine at Troy Sawyer - of all people. He wondered exactly what he had missed .. and when. Trying to keep the confusion from his voice, Danny swallowed hard against his rising nausea. The pain in his leg was severe and he'd lost a lot of blood despite the tourniquet he'd fashioned from a torn towel.

"This wasn't the shin-dig I expected, Troy. You're the mole for the Yakuza and this arms deal? Never would have guessed .. never would have guessed you had it in you."

He was angry and that had made him sarcastic. Two Williams' traits that he could rarely rein in at the best of times; then Troy had reacted in a startling fashion. The solid hit that Troy leveled across his face rocked him backwards. He felt the sting and then the hot blood immediately as he gasped at the pained suddenness of the blow. Bleary-eyed, he was thankful for the hands that were holding him up as his vision blackened severely.

"Troy." He meant it as a question, but the name came out on a puff of air lost when he felt himself rising into the air. He didn't have time to try and escape Marty's severe grip. The deck of the yacht, too many faces and the blue of the sky spun dizzyingly together in a kaleidoscope of colors. He felt himself lifted and then tossed as if nothing into the air where he seemed to hang for one long frightening second of time.

In one startling movement, Danny felt himself lifted off the solid deck of the Mariah. He hung in mid-air briefly only recognizing the rush of blue sky overhead.

Then he was falling.

"No - stop!" Steve's shout faded in a flurry of white noise created by the boats engines, the rough wake from the  _Mariah_ , and Danny's own loud senseless gasp.

He inhaled his last breath of air much too late as his suddenly freed arms windmilled wildly in the air and he hit the water on his side going under heavily from the twelve foot drop. It felt as if he'd hit a concrete sidewalk as the tiny bit of air he had in his lungs was forcibly lost. Whatever Steve shouted after his name was gone in a rise of hissing bubbles and the sound of the yacht's dual propellers that he belatedly realized he needed to swim away from except he didn't know which way that might be.

Tossed about endlessly and for what seemed like an eternity, his vision was dimming by the time the worst of the  _Mariah's_  vortex released him. Danny came up to the surface choking and sputtering out swallowed water as wave after choppy wave washed over his head from the now departing vessel. He was still stuck in its wake and he bobbed over and over as he failed at regaining his equilibrium and sense of direction. Heart hammering from fear, his leg also stung viciously in the saltwater as he vainly tried to get himself under some semblance of control. But that was soon the least of his worries as he palmed water and rivulets of blood from his face and awkwardly tried to stay afloat. Shock made him slow to recover and by the time he managed to turn his body towards the  _Mariah_ , he could barely read her name on the shining hull.

In the distance he could see what looked like a fight on deck between his partner and the five men that had turned the tables on them much too early in the operation. Steve was woefully out numbered but the irate SEAL was proving a formidable foe to the criminals on board. As the yacht was turned hard to starboard, Danny lost sight of them and felt his heart lurch when a plume of pitch black smoke suddenly came up from the stern.

In a ridiculous attempt to do something, Danny began a crawling swim to follow the boat ignoring the pain in his leg as the moderate seas buffeted him back and forth. He was beside himself just a few minutes later when he saw distant red flames licking through the black smoke of the rear port-hole windows.

"Nononono!" The small smoldering fire he had set when locked down below had escalated much too quickly into a true hot blaze. He had meant it to only smoke and smolder in order to buy them time. His assumption had been that Abe and Marty - acting on behalf of the Yakuza - had decided the deal had gone sour. He had meant to create a minor smoke bomb of sorts so that he, Steve and Troy could retaliate. However, Danny watched now as real flames licked up through the rear of the cabin.

He'd been shot in the short tussle with Marty when the man attacked him in the rear galley. He'd been shot with his own weapon that he'd automatically yanked from his ankle holster. Marty had gotten lucky and turned the tables quickly on Danny. Before he could even register the pain of the wound, the large man had him stuffed unceremoniously in the smallest bathroom. Thrown heavily to the floor, Danny had first torn a bath towel to shreds to use as a tourniquet.

Moments later, he had used his fingers to pry the baseboard off the side wall under the sink surprised to see what looked like access to the back portion of the engine room. Remnants of the same torn bath towel, a bottle of liquid bathroom cleaner and a rusted can of what smelled like turpentine provided the rudimentary idea as he worked at creating a small smoke bomb of sorts. The tiny cabinets held scented candles and matches, providing everything Danny needed to set his plan into motion. Half of the cleaner joined the acrid product in the old can. A long piece of the shredded towel was dampened in the mixture as he made a long tail of the cloth to prop up the book of matches. When he heard the engines start up, he quickly struck one match and positioned the rest of the matchbook against the old rag within the recesses of where the engine was housed. For kicks, he pushed the opened bottle of bathroom cleaner in next to the tin can.

Danny remembered his feeling of pride in accomplishing the diversion. He had thought that 'Steve, the Science Guy' would be duly impressed with his quick improvisation. By the time the door opened, the baseboard was back in place well before Marty leered over his head and Danny was hoping the big man didn't quite literally, smell anything wrong. Learning that Troy Sawyer was the mastermind behind the betrayal was short of astonishing and meant neither he nor Steve had any true allies on board the departing yacht. The odds had suddenly depleted significantly.

But now - based on what Danny saw happening before his very eyes, his simple plan had worked much too well.

"No." Danny coughed water from his lungs as he tried to swim faster, but the boat was still moving away from him and as he ridiculously shouted for Steve, there was a loud pop and then an explosion. The explosion was centered once more in the rear and Danny watched in horror as the boat shuddered. As if in slow motion, it began to take on water as it toppled onto its starboard side.

"Steve!" Too far away to be affected, Danny was also too far to be of any help and could only watch as the black smoke obscured the entire boat and anyone on board from his sight. His eyes widened in shock as the boat's broad beamed bottom glowed whitely in the bright sunlight before another explosion spewed it's innards into the air in a flaming mass of debris.

"Steve!" The second explosion drowned him out completely and Danny swore he could feel the shock waves rippling through the water under him as he churned forward. He tried for minutes on end to gain ground on the debris but the fickle tides and his own injuries prevented him from getting closer. Exhausted and already breathing too hard, Danny was swamped again by a wave and came up choking.

He was in serious trouble.

His heart hammered in his chest as the distant smoke cleared and all he could see was pieces of what had been the large cabin cruiser. There wasn't a sign of a single soul as he struggled to see signs of life in the choppy waters.

Not only was he in trouble. He was alone. And his brain couldn't quite focus on the fact that he'd likely killed his own partner, too.

"I killed him." Danny took a shuddering gasp as he blinked water from his eyes. He couldn't believe that Steve would be dead. There was no way that he'd die like this on a stupid god-awful sting operation that had been planned down to every minute detail.

The fact that it was Troy Sawyer who had flipped didn't quite make a dent in Danny's befuddled mind. The  _why_  wasn't even a question he could form in his head yet. He could barely wrap his brain around the last few minutes of what had just happened on board the  _Mariah_  where he'd been so arbitrarily disposed of; and then on top of it all, he'd accidentally murdered Steve McGarrett.

His mouth dropped open as he watched the vessel sink in mere seconds. What had taken up a hulking and impressive mass on the surface was now simply gone.

Blindly, Danny kicked off his one remaining shoe sputtering weakly and going under once again as the motion conflicted with his ability to stay afloat. Biting his lip, Danny tugged the torn piece of towel over his thigh and cinched it tighter as a tourniquet. The bullet had gone completely through but the pain was incredible combined with the caustic nature of the salt water.

Danny watched the horizon, slowly treading water in an awkward circle. And then, he simply didn't know what to do.

Alone and near to drowning, he nearly sobbed out loud at the uselessness of his predicament combined with what he'd done to destroy the large yacht. The current was taking him farther from the debris field and he had no idea which way shore was - and then it didn't matter since he'd never make it.

It didn't matter because he'd killed Steve.

He vaguely realized help was on the way, too. But he'd never last as the thirty minute ETA resonated in the back of his mind. If the signal from the  _Mariah_  was lost in any way, the game plan altered and help would be scrambled with a thirty-minute estimated time of arrival to their last recorded location.

But he had no boat. No dinghy and no life jacket. No tools at all. The worst was  _Steve_  and Danny felt the fearful lump rising in his throat again as he panted in exhaustion against the power of the relentless tidal waters. Eyes still wide, Danny couldn't help himself as he heaved in a choking breath and then yelled as loudly as he could.

"Steve!"

His voice broke on the next struggled inhale and this time he did feel the bubble of panic come through. Almost forgetting about Troy Sawyer's deceit, he could only dwell on what he'd done in the yacht's small bathroom.

"Oh god. What did I do?"

Only twenty minutes later, Danny had stopped calling and belatedly focused on keeping his head above the water. He'd pushed anything else from his mind except for the unbidden thoughts of his childhood friend who had died at the Jersey shore, sharks that would undoubtedly be coming soon based on his bleeding wound, and of course ... his Grace.

"I'm sorry." He whispered as he thought about Grace. Then Steve. He could barely even think of Grace when his loss of Steve at his own hands took his breath away completely.

"What did I do?" Flipping onto his back, Danny closed his eyes and tried to rest briefly but a wave washed completely over his face and he panicked as he went under in an exhausted state of confusion. Slapping stupidly at the water, he surfaced and resolutely went back to the not so simple task of keeping his head above each wave. His injured leg was a leaden weight though as he tired more quickly than he would have thought possible.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

He heard the voice from far away just as he weakly surfaced from another full drenching. Riding too low in the water, Danny then wasn't certain he had heard anything as he bobbed and spat water from his mouth. Blood loss, fear and exhaustion were weakening him by the second and when he heard the sound of the distant voice again, Danny shook his head in denial. He was sure that he was hearing things and he mumbled in confusion.

"What? Crazy .. no one."

Already raspy, his own was nearly gone and before he could try to scan the horizon, he was under yet again and sinking more than the last time as his muscles seized from exertion and stress. Clawing slowly back up, Danny was almost out of air and hope when he felt the fingers on his forearm and then around his waist aiding him towards daylight until his head broke free to allow him a choking gulp of fresh air.

"Danno. Easy, I got you." He trembled at the downright shock of it as he found himself scooped awkwardly into Steve's chest.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?" Leave it to Steve to pester him with ridiculous questions as his heart pounded violently through his own chest and his fingers scrabbled against the SEAL's iron grip.

"You .. died." Danny's voice was a squeaky coughed whimper as his mind tried to catch up with what was going on. The tattooed arm around his chest was unmistakable though, as was the sturdy chest that elevated him to ride higher in the waves. Yet he tried to break free in an illogical move to escape his dead partner's grasp.

"Let .. me go." He struggled and fought with the dregs of his last ounce of energy. Steve was dead and this could only be a dark dream where he was on the verge of dying. "You died. You're ... dead."

Surprised by the unexpected struggle, Steve pulled him in even tighter and used his free hand to restrain Danny's left wrist that tugged so hard on his arm to break away. His partner was gasping in fear and shock - he wasn't making any sense.

"Easy!" Holding him closer, Steve tried to get Danny's attention as he kept them both afloat. "Hey, hey. Danno, it's me. You're okay."

"No, no. It blew. I saw it .. you died. I killed you."

"Killed me?" There was a soft chuckle and a warm breath on Danny's cheek as strong arms pulled him persistently back into a basic rescue position. "No. You did good, partner. You saved us."

Steve's voice finally began to make headway as Danny heaved in a deep breath and tiredly ceased his struggle. "Whatever you did was perfectly timed down to the last second. It just took me some time to find you."

Matter of fact and patient words warmed him and Danny couldn't hide the relieved sob in his voice as he rubbed at Steve's arm now for reassurance.

"But .. I killed you." He was trembling in earnest now and shaking his head in total disbelief where he lay now against Steve's shoulder.

"Steve."

"You didn't, Danny. You did good." Another warm breath blew across his face as Steve repositioned his hold. "Rest and let me do some of the work. Other than your leg, are you hurt? That was quite a fall."

"I thought. Steve." Lame and apologetic, Danny lost his voice entirely as he allowed his head to rest tiredly on Steve's shoulder and rocked along with him in the rough waves. His overwhelmed brain backfired and he completely failed at answering Steve's questions entirely. He hadn't killed his stubborn partner after all and his relief was sickeningly palpable.

"They're coming for us, Danny. They should be here soon since the ETA is just about up. We're within a mile or two of the last coordinates and the  _Mariah_  was wired up to her gills. Just hang on, buddy."

He felt Steve shift him higher and then astutely check the bruising wound on his face and then skirt across his chest and each cold limb. He hissed when Steve connected with the wound in his thigh which had until then been utterly deadened and then blindly examined the tourniquet.

"How are you doing?" Steve could feel the ice-cold skin under his hands as he gauged Danny's injuries and overall state of mind. He was barely coping, thought he had killed him, and was near to drowning when Steve had finally seen the soaked blonde head struggling to stay above wave after relentless wave.

"Good. Fine." No snark or heat to the monotone words which ended in an odd short giggle which had Steve frowning worriedly. He cocked his head to view the side of Danny's face and inwardly winced at the purpling bruise which outlined the jagged cut across his cheek. He was sure that his own chin didn't look much better off after meeting the stock of Abe's rifle. However along with the wounded leg, the jagged cut on Danny's cheek was scoured by seawater and undoubtedly very painful. He knew that to be true based on the persistent deep burning sensations tracing the length of his own neck.

Danny's eyes were closed behind wetly clumped lashes and he was panting fearfully through his mouth as they drifted together through the waves. He was undeniably in pain but also doing his best to not panic for Steve's sake.

"Yeah, I bet you're fine, Danno." Wiping his hair back from the pale forehead, Steve knew better than anyone Danny's very real and valid fear of the ocean and now the worst was happening in real life. His stomach twisted in sympathy as Danny drew in another weak shuddering breath.

"Take it easy, partner. You did good." Steve hugged him tighter to his chest to drill the point home as Danny struggled to breathe more normally.

Coupled with the unexpected belief that he'd killed Steve, Danny was trembling in near shock at the utter relief of it all. Taking a moment to check where they were in the supposed relation to the private islet, Steve gently changed course with a purposeful one-armed stroke. He wasn't about to wait to see if and when help arrived; he knew that the islet would also be a search destination and they both needed the relief of dry land. It was a risk as well because those that had setup the earlier elaborate spread could and would return for clean up. Another miraculous and invisible task that he prayed had already been completed.

He shushed Danny when he felt the spasmodic fearful fingers tighten on his arm. "We're going back to the shoal. But they're on the way, Danno. We'll be home before you know it."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	5. Chapter 5

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Eyes stubbornly closed, he concentrated solely on Steve's calming monotone. Danny avoided actual words though. He didn't want or need to be reminded of where they were; the solid, heavy wetness of his clothing did that. The fear of sharks, his memory of Billy's young voice and subsequent funeral did that. As did the never-ending series of waves that tried to swamp them both repeatedly. All were much too tangible reminders that refused to go away.

The push and pull of the water was constant as it tried to simultaneously separate but then conversely kept them together. Not to mention the terrible salty taste that covered his lips and stung the deep cut etched into his cheek. His leg throbbed mercilessly as Steve towed them both in the supposed direction of the private piece of land they had lunch at earlier.

Unbidden, Danny's thoughts drifted to Troy Sawyer and the mind-numbing reality of what had just happened. He lost Steve's voice in the mix as emotions poked through. His hands fisted weakly in the water as he failed to understand how he'd missed the lies and deceit for so long.

"Shit. Hold on." Steve's curse broke his unwanted reverie but came too late as a warning as the current suddenly shifted. Danny gasped and sputtered in shock as a larger rogue wave dunked them both completely under. It only lasted a fraction of a second and his ice cold fingers convulsed before scrabbling for a more secure purchase on Steve's forearm. He gagged as he involuntarily inhaled some of the water before they broke to the surface again.

"It's okay. I got you. We're almost there." His relief in that Steve's own hands never once faltered while they strongly clasped him to his chest was palpable. He'd given up his pale attempts at hiding his fear long ago as the seas pummeled them and each minute piled on top of the next. But he was at the end of his rope as he weakly rubbed water from his eyes and coughed heavily.

Help hadn't come yet. Something more was wrong.

He knew that Steve was as surprised as he; he also knew that Steve understood his fears, but Danny would eventually be compelled to apologize.

Eventually. Just not at that very moment.

Danny was utterly out of his element and more than willing to allow Steve his natural druthers.

A strong cramp rippled through his muscles making his fingers loosen their grip and he moaned as his hands uselessly sank below the surface. Every so often he had tried to help out of guilt and a need to do something to aide their cause. Now, his body revolted and he was forced to allow Steve to manage them both. As if reading his mind, Steve's voice was slightly out of breath but definitely confident in his ear.

"Almost there, Danno. You don't need to do a single thing."

"Sorry." Danny's voice was a hoarse whisper as he failed even to shrug. "Can't."

"Easy. Just relax. And you can because you're already doing it." He felt Steve shift him higher so even more of his upper body was out of the water. The arms again never faltering as strong, purposeful scissor-kicks moved them almost angrily towards the small shoal. The confident words also were endless as Steve stayed his course.

"Five minutes. Promise. No more than five." The buoying litany continued incessantly and Danny took great comfort in it. It kept monsters at bay and most of his terrifying thoughts. But the entire time, Steve could feel the panicked heartbeat through his arm.

He was proud that not once did Danny succumb to blind terror. There was no struggle or flailing of arms and legs to dangerously jeopardize them both. He had simply stopped speaking as exhaustion and then fear took over.

When he first spied him, Steve had recognized the trouble for what it was immediately. His relieved shouts had gone unheeded and he'd dived the second time Danny had sunk below the surface. He had reached him just as his partner had begun to significantly weaken. Steve had scooped him into a protective rescue position, almost expecting an argument. Instead, the caustic comebacks, rude retorts and typical rants were nonexistent. Other than the brief confused struggle, Danny had seemingly zoned out. That had been almost two hours earlier, no help had arrived, but now land was finally in sight as the threat of dusk began to loom.

" _I killed you._ "

Those were the last three words Steve had ever expected to hear upon finding his partner in the ocean. So Steve talked just to talk as he made for the small outcropping of sand and sparse trees.

Steve grimaced when he felt the tremors increasing through Danny's body as the fingers finally lost their stranglehold on his arm. They were both injured, Steve was admittedly extremely tired but there was no way his partner would ever be able to cope under the current conditions. He had found Danny just in time.

Shocky and too pliant, Danny had virtually tried to tune out everything around them except for Steve's presence. Now, after nearly two miserable hours in the rough water, he had been truly denied of any remaining energy reserves.

"We're okay. I can see the beach. We can find shelter to ride this out."

Hesitating, Steve took an intentional parallel course still well beyond the breakers to survey the beach.

"S'wrong?" The slurred word was welcome after Danny had been so very quiet. His eyes were now partly open as he saw the hazy view of palm trees and white sand.

"Nothing. Just making sure it stays that way." Squinting against the sun, Steve noted that the remains of the afternoon outing were indeed now gone. There was no sign of a boat or of people anywhere in the vicinity.

Sighing in relief, Steve looked for the gentlest way to the beach and began swimming. "Coast looks clear, we're going in."

Then there was nothing from Danny as Steve's feet found their first tentative purchase through the breakers. Allowing a larger wave the luxury of escorting them closer, Steve channeled his strength to doggedly half carry and drag Danny through waist and then mercifully ankle-deep water up through drier sands. As soon as they cleared the water, Steve gently lay Danny down and collapsed first to his own knees and then with a groan, rolled over onto his back.

Which was a huge and immediate mistake.

"Son of a bitch." Gasping, Steve bit his lip and drew blood as granules of sand ground into the deep knife wounds. Rolling awkwardly to his feet, he stumbled back into the ocean to purge the sand knowing that action still wasn't the wisest or safest option. Stripping off his ruined t-shirt, he knew it would be too late anyway if infection set in. He needed clean, sterile water and not the ocean which would carry an alarming amount of bacteria. But his desire to get the painful sand out of the wounds became the necessary priority.

His stumbling walk brought him weakly back to Danny's side and he palmed his face before checking Danny's pulse. He was suddenly nauseous again and feeling scarily light-headed.

Swallowing hard, Steve took a long minute to rest and focus. He was far from done if they were to be safe through the next unknown block of time.

"Danny?" Trembling in the late afternoon sun, Danny was barely conscious. Lips already blue tinged didn't hide the start of chattering teeth in a much too pale face. Yanking up his pant's leg, Steve took out his knife to cut away the material from Danny's injured leg.

"I need to check this out."

Danny faintly heard Steve's voice and then sensed the activity around him. He felt his pant's being cut away and the more efficient check of his ribs, arms and legs now that they were on dry land. Fading in and out, he knew he should let Steve know that he was fine. Actually, more than fine with the feel of a solid, unmoving surface beneath his head. Instead he finally allowed himself to drop into the darker haze of oblivion.

"Crap." Dropping his knife, Steve's fingers flew to Danny's neck when the head lolled limply to the side. "Come on. Not now."

A quick check confirmed a too rapid pulse under skin that seemed not only sticky, but clammy. "Don't go into shock on me, pal."

Steve worked rapidly then. His thorough examination confirmed the now purpled bruising around the cut that marred one cheekbone and the through and through bullet wound in Danny's upper thigh. The bleeding had stopped though and Steve removed the makeshift tourniquet. He was relieved to find no breaks or added injuries; though of course, that fear of infection was a valid concern for both of them. Night would fall soon too which would worsen the threat of hypothermia affording Steve new worries.

"They're on their way." He'd lost count of how many times he'd said that and now, he too didn't quite believe it. He wasn't sure why help hadn't yet arrived within thirty-minutes of the GPS being shut down, or of the large yacht blowing up and then sinking below the surface. None of it made sense.

Steve grimaced to himself because there could be only one eventual answer. Troy Sawyer wasn't the only double agent on the team and if transmissions could be faked or even ignored, it meant that Darlene Smythe - the FBI's communications expert - was the additional and most likely loose end.

They had walked the small private shoal earlier in the day, and relatively removed from seafaring prying eyes, was a tiny shed of mostly beach-related supplies. The pretty little islet was a popular destination within Yakuza family circles.

Hoping for something more useful than snorkeling equipment, Steve got shakily to his feet as he afforded Danny a measured look. With luck, there would be a medical kit too. He was still talking just to hear his own voice as he informed the unconscious man of his next steps.

"I'm going to the shed to check for supplies. We'll be fine here while we wait." Each step was more secure than the last, and despite the pain in his neck, Steve was almost jogging by the time he'd made it halfway down the path towards the small shed. Using a rock, he broke the poor excuse for a lock and quickly began rummaging through the plastic totes that were neatly lined along the walls.

Made of cheap tin, the shed itself would be too hot to afford daytime shelter and would leave them trapped if an enemy were to arrive uninvited on the small piece of land. The first totes were disappointingly empty and a few more held small beach chairs and the rightly assumed snorkeling equipment. However, rolled up in a corner was a tent, blankets, sleeping bags and various emergency medical supplies which included two quarts of sterilized water.

"Thank you." He breathed out happily as he dry-swallowed two over the counter pain pills and then laughed when he saw the case of water in the back of the shed. It was both good and bad that the spit of land seemed fairly well used.

Happy enough at his special finds, his luck continued when he came across clean towels, two camping lanterns and one flashlight. His startled exclamation surfaced when his hand connected with a satellite phone wrapped in a heavy plastic bag. Thumbing it on, the battery was low but it would be enough for at least one critical call.

"Duke." Steve put the call directly through to HPD headquarters in order to do a double-blind on the transmission. The transmission was poor and the delay a bit long. HPD was not involved with the operation and a direct call to Chin or Kono would inadvertently throw up red flags to place more of his team in danger.

"Duke, it's Steve and I need help contacting either Chin or Kono privately. I need a secure and private connection." Steve stressed the words and restated this demand to be sure the HPD Sergeant clearly understood his dire need. Giving the older man the number taped to the phone, he jogged back to Danny with the medical supplies and clean drinking water in a large beach bag he had found while speaking.

"Privately, Duke and completely secure." He waited five, ten and then almost fifteen minutes while cleaning Danny's leg wound and flushing it well with one quart of the sterile water before fixing soothing bandages. Even unconscious, Danny's face was set in pain as Steve manipulated his leg to flush the angry weeping wound as he waited for one of their team-mates to get on the line. The wait to be paged back was frustrating as he watched the satellite phone's battery slowly dissipate.

"Come on. Come on." He whispered crazily as checked his watch. He jolted when the page finally came and Duke's voice sounded through the connection.

 _"Hold on Steve. I've got Chin."_ Duke didn't wait as Chin's voice finally chimed through in a rushed whisper.

_"What's wrong? What's with the contact, Steve? It's not part of the playbook."_

The reassuring sound of Chin's voice made Steve smile as he finished tightening the clean bandage around Danny's leg. Sitting back on his heels, Steve ran his free hand over his face and through his wet hair. He winced as the movement pulled on the knife cuts behind his ear and along the base of his neck. Based upon the time, the mission should be progressing as planned with a rendezvous with the Yakuza buyers via a fishing trawler at particular coordinates. He had no business calling the land-based staging area - and Chin knew it.

"Are you alone?"

 _"Of course."_ The question remained in Chin's voice and Steve didn't disappoint as he explained what was happening.

"The  _Mariah_  sunk, Chin. Sawyer was the mole and there's another on the team with you and Kono. Danny and I are stranded on the private island."

 _"What?"_ The hissed response was genuine and full of a shocked alarm. _"But, the GPS transmissions are still live. You're on track as planned to meet the buyers within the next forty-five minutes."_

"Not live. Faked. Sawyer tried to kill us. But now, they're all dead, Chin. We could still be next."

It was clear then that the rendezvous with the fishing trawler was also an elaborate ploy .. it didn't exist. If the subversive plan had worked, Steve would have been long gone by the time the core team realized what had happened. Troy Sawyer had some other elaborate plan up his sleeve and Steve felt his chest clench in shock as he checked his watch and did the math in his head.

The true exchange should have been over long ago. The team housed on land would have continued to be oblivious for hours yet to come. Steve would have been delivered on a platter to Wo Fat with no one the wiser. Danny would have died.

 _"Smythe?"_ Chin was quick as he realized the key communications manager would be the likely second internal leak to the agency. She was somehow faking the GPS transmissions which made it appear as if the mission were proceeding like clockwork.

 _"Why? What's the real game then, Steve?"_ He sighed as he first surveyed the horizon with a leery eye and then grasped Danny's shoulder as his partner returned to consciousness with a pained moan.

"Me. He was after me."

Danny wearily quirked an eyebrow at Steve when he saw the satellite phone. His expression lightened with distinct relief when Steve spoke for his benefit.

"Chin, Sawyer is - or was - working for Wo Fat. He's also related to the Hesse brothers."

"What?" The weak surprised cough made Danny knuckle the space between his forehead in disbelief. "No. Arms deal."

"No, Danno." Steve was talking now to both Chin and Danny as he stilled at the sight of a distant large boat and then only slightly relaxed as it rocketed past them well off the shore line. Danny still didn't understand Sawyer's true intent or link to Wo Fat as he blinked queerly up at Steve's face.

"Hesse?" The name lent itself well to being puffed out on a weak exhale and Steve nodded as he tried to calm Danny's growing confusion.

"Sawyer specifically said he was working for Wo Fat and I was the target." He ground his jaw angrily as he remembered the change in timbre of the man's voice.

"He's a mercenary and related to Victor Hesse. He's family looking for retribution. I was the target from the very beginning of this supposed operation."

Chin didn't need to be told what to do next, though organizing rescue along with an internal take-down now would be problematic from his side of the mission. Both needed to be done quickly but with the least amount of attention to ensure everyone's safety. The process would require flushing out any other unexpected surprises planted on the project team.

_"We need to safely corral Smythe and whoever else is involved. Steve, you could still be in danger with whoever Sawyer was going to meet up with. It may take me some time to get proper help to you until Kono and I get this sorted out."_

Closing his eyes, Steve nodded because he'd thought of that too. The original rendezvous was faked and where Sawyer truly had intended to take him to was a complete mystery.

There was no doubt the  _Mariah_  had been late for the meet. Yet, two full hours had passed without much incident. However, if they were desperate or even merely inquisitive, their enemies still might come looking for the  _Mariah_  and that put Steve distinctly on edge as the sun began to set on the horizon.

With luck, they'd not come or if they did, would give up and simply leave without finding the large yacht since it had sunk so very quickly. However, the private island was too close, the Yakuza knew they had used it that very afternoon, and the lure could prove to be much too enticing to an inquisitive criminal.

So even though two hours had passed, Steve's neck crawled at the thought as he stared down at Danny's now closed eyes and then surveyed the much too small and open island landscape.

"Get us out of here, Chin. As soon as you can. Danny's injured but we have supplies. We'll be okay in the short-term. This sat-phone has no juice though." Checking his watch, Steve came up with a compromise.

"I'll turn it back on at 21:00 hours and then every hour for two minutes. Touch base when possible."

However, Steve hesitated as an odd thought crossed his mind. "Chin. Put a tail on Rita Sawyer. I want her watched at all times until we get this situation under control."

The harsh intake of breath indicated Chin's understanding as he hastily agreed.

_"Ah, Steve. She's with Catherine and Grace right now. They took the kids out to dinner and a movie."_

Steve struggled back to his feet and walked away a few feet. His voice was a low hiss of new concern. "What are you talking about?"

 _"It was a last minute thing with Rita and Catherine. I think Danny was aware of it - or maybe not. I'm not sure how it happened._ " The soft alarm resonated in Chin's voice.

" _You don't think she's involved? Not with the kids?"_

The odds were low that Troy Sawyer's wife was involved with her husband's espionage, plus Steve was the target. Not Danny and certainly not Grace. Based solely on the man's nearly silent response to Steve's question alone; because of that, Steve was sure that Rita would eventually be as stunned as the rest of them. In the meantime though, they needed to keep their own safe.

"Chin, get a private message to Cath. Get her and Grace away from Rita Sawyer and to HPD or a safe house using any excuse necessary. Then put that detail on Rita .. discreetly. Very discreetly. I want her investigated."

_"Consider it done. I'll try to get word back to you. But I can't promise when I'll have the freedom to do that."_

With the timeline for the operation coming to its zenith, it would be difficult enough for Chin to warn Cath. Things needed to progress somewhat naturally to avoid their own detection. But Steve knew it would get done; calling them back would be the true problem.

"Understood." Turning back towards Danny, Steve could only nod as the urgent call came to an end. Grace was with Catherine who was more than a little competent and he was fairly positive that Rita wouldn't jeopardize the kids. He also tried to lighten his expression as he gently roused Danny.

"Chin's got it under control. We just have to hang tight."

The short nod had Danny's eyes skidding shut again and Steve worriedly frowned. He definitely preferred him to be awake and more aware.

"I need to take a look at that cut, Danny." Reaching out with clean gauze and the sterile water, he was startled when his wrist was stayed in mid air.

"Rita?" The short one worded question was a surprise and he searched his mind for a feasible response.

"Yeah, Chin's going to watch her. None of us like thinking that she's involved and either way, it's just going to be a tough situation for her and the boys." It was the absolute truth and he uncomfortably waited for more, but Danny happily quieted.

"Popular guy." The short words were full of worry but they made Steve grin as he gently began to doctor Danny's cheek. A few minutes later, the wound had been washed with clean water and soothed with an antibacterial cream. Closed with a series of small steri-strip tapes, it looked red and angry but less painful.

"You?"

"What?" Frowning, Steve bent down at the odd whispered question to be sure he'd heard correctly.

"Me? Me what, Danny?"

Reaching up, Danny thumbed a line of blood that smeared down his collar-bone. But the one worded questions were beginning to worry Steve as Danny spouted yet another.

"Blood?" Steve felt the hot trickle then as a portion of one of the cuts continued to bleed. He had almost forgotten about the knife wounds the Russian had so neatly carved around his ear and neckline. Gently, Steve examined the thin but deep slices behind his ear and grimaced when his fingers came back sticky with new blood.

"Hurt?" Before Danny could inquire again or begin to complain, Steve opened the second bottle of sterile water and ducked his head to the side to rinse away the area. He continued with what he could feel at the base of his neck and then finished as best as possible with the longest slash. Hissing as the motion reopened the deepest edges of the gash, Steve took a wad of clean surgical gauze and gently dabbed the painful area dry.

"It's not bad." He grinned to calm Danny's rising concern at the number of bloody gauze pads being tossed to the sand. Using Danny's chest as a table, he smiled at Danny's petulant expression when he smeared antiseptic cream on a large clean bandage. Tape soon followed and with an almost too practiced ease, Steve soon had two separate bandages gracing the back of his head. One lay from the base of his ear into his hair-line, while the second smaller was neatly placed along his neckline. He didn't have enough gauze for the deep slice, so he settled for smearing it with antiseptic cream and leaving it open to the air.

"Wise-ass." Danny muttered at the pleased grin that was plastered across Steve's face as he used his fingers to smooth down the strong adhesive tape.

"Tired." When he closed his eyes suddenly, Steve lost his grin quickly. Two pain killers and a bottled water came out of the beach bag next.

"Not yet. Take these and then I'm moving you up higher so we can set up the tent. Let's go." The faint mumble seemed to agree as Steve gently pulled Danny into a seated position and held him firmly around the wast.

"Open and now drink." Firmly, Steve pushed the pills into his mouth and then helpfully held the bottle for Danny to wash them down. Small sips followed that until Steve declined him more.

"See if that stays down. Okay?" Taking a firmer hold, Steve waited patiently as Danny acclimated more to the dizzying change in position. He waited again as Danny blinked his eyes furiously to clear the graying edges and blackish, dancing lights from his vision.

"Ready, Danno?" Steve readjusted his grip as cramped legs wavered and dipped towards the sand. He was incredibly weak and Steve began to doubt his ability to move.

"M'good." The tremble echoing through his body belied the truth of that as they started the slow walk up the short path with his injured leg refusing to cooperate. A few painful hops in and Steve was literally dragging his partner to the shed and more shady refuge.

"Here. Don't ... move." Steve groaned as he gently sat Danny down in the doorway of the small shed. He was now bordering on empty himself as he closed hs eyes, fisted his hands and bent over on shaky legs to heave in lungfuls of air.

If he sat down now, he was positive that he'd not get up again. A glance towards his partner's sadly canted body spoke the same for Danny.

"I'll setup the tent." There was a small copse of rocks, downed trees and palms near the center of the tiny island. The tent was a dark green color and would blend fairly well from prying ocean-based eyes until Chin could send adequate help. In the dark of night, it would be invisible.

Easing past Danny, he carefully pulled out what he needed; including the tote full of towels. Draping one to protect his damaged neck, Steve began to pull Danny's wet shirt off his body.

"What?" Pained eyes regarded him curiously as Steve tugged off the last sleeve and shook out the largest towel. In one motion, he wrapped Danny in the dry terry cloth.

"Can't stay in wet clothes." Acceptance of the brief explanation came quickly. Only marked by a slow nod.

"Weapons?" Danny couldn't hide the partial look of disgust when Steve flexed his fingers dangerously and then reached under the hem of his damp cargo pants.

" 'Course." Leaning heavily into the metal frame, Danny found himself almost smiling at his partner's much too cocky expression when the large SEAL blade slammed menacingly into the sand next to Danny's bare right foot.

"Don't need much, Danno." Steve promised with a happy grin. While they didn't have an actual gun, the knife and his own hands were dangerous enough. Combined with a tent spike and any number of other often mundane looking supplies that could be morphed into another illicit use, and Steve was a happy camper.

So Danny's tired and torn smile wound up growing as Steve began to chuckle at the short complaining rant. It was one of the first full sentences Danny had managed to rasp out in some time, and it was perfect down to the final syllable.

"You definitely... definitely ... are enjoying this ... too much, Steven."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The intent of the text messages are as follows =
> 
> 1\. As soon as possible - you and Grace Williams - to HPD headquarters and safety. Get away (86) from Rita Sawyer. Things are really 'eff-ed' up.
> 
> 2\. Okay. Be at that location (20) in fifteen minutes.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER SIX**

Chin stood quietly in the 5-0 Palace parking lot after the disturbing phone call and weighed his options. While Steve had given him instructions regarding future contact, he truly didn't want to wait that long. With Danny injured and a certain pained strain to Steve's voice, the fact that the rest were dead and the yacht now a sunken wreck was very telling. He much preferred taking control of the situation versus continuing to allow Darlene Smythe - and whomever else might be involved - to call the shots.

Before doing anything though, he sent a short text message to Catherine. He realized that she would be worried about Steve and then wouldn't necessarily understand his cryptic intent, but he trusted that she would be leery enough to react.

_**ASAP UNGW. 2HPD. Lck-dwn. 86 RS. TARFU.** _

Her texted reply was fairly quick and Chin knew that she'd find a way to beg off the rest of the now awkward evening with Rita Sawyer.

_**OK. 20 in 15.** _

Sighing in relief, he made a hasty call to Duke Lukela so that he could intercept both Catherine and Grace once they arrived at HPD Headquarters. He quickly explained the situation and asked Duke to fill Catherine in on what was going on. Once those tasks were completed, Chin jogged hurriedly back into the building. The joint team was using the 5-0 offices due to its state of the art equipment. Darlene Smythe had setup her elaborate communications and tracking computers days earlier, working with Kono to check and double-check their accuracy.

He noted wryly that Darlene was the first person to study him closely upon his return.

"Everything okay?" Kono was studiously monitoring the supposed progress of the  _Mariah_  on the dual overhead screens as it neared the fake rendezvous point and Chin felt a spark of anger.

"Yeah, the Governor only wanted a status report. He's pleased things are going as planned." The lie smoothly rolled off his tongue. he spoke calmly and loud enough for Darlene to hear and her piercing stare dropped immediately from his face. Based upon the playbook, the meet would occur in three hours. The Coast Guard would scramble forty-five minutes prior to intercept and offer support with select members of the small team now working together in the 5-0 offices. Darlene Smythe was not part of that rally team; that fact suddenly irked him. As soon as they departed, she would have ample time to disappear. In addition, the original rendezvous point was in the opposite direction of the small islet and Chin nervously tapped his fingers on the smart table.

Only Darlene had shown interest in his short departure from the offices. She was also the only one that seemed to care about his return. With some more consideration, her past refusals to take a break or allow anyone else to monitor the communications and tracking equipment now seemed suspicious.

He needed better options and he needed them quickly.

To confirm their new hunch, Chin casually poured a cup of coffee and wandered over to where Darlene was sitting. Avidly enthralled with something she was listening to, her fingers tightly pressed one side of a headphone to her left ear.

"Take a break. It's a nice night out and I'm sure you could use the air." Chin's voice was non-threatening and friendly but Darlene barely looked up.

Her whispered reply was tolerant at best as she pretended to be busy updating particular notes. "No, thanks I'm good."

"You're sure, Darlene?" Chin teasingly waved his aromatic coffee under her nose. "I'm positive nothing will happen in the next five minutes. I'd be happy to cover for you."

Looking away, Darlene heaved in a temperamental breath. When she turned to face him, her expression was steely and her voice was firm, almost angry or even defensive. "Thank you, Chin. But like i just said - - no."

"Fine, okay. Just thought I'd offer!" Hand held high in mock apology, Chin relented to give Smythe her space. She looked at no one else while she seemingly took notes and actively tracked a vessel that no longer existed. There was a subtle shake to her fingers though and possibly a bead of sweat on her forehead. He wondered if she had a redundant system proving the  _Mariah_  was no more. If so, she'd be as worried and nervous as he now was.

Chin itched to leave earlier now as he studied each person's face as if seeing them for the first time. Looking up, he found Kono frowning at him and he pulled out his tablet.

The quiet ping on hers drew her attention and without a word or single glance in his direction, she moved to the privacy of her office.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

Inside the tent, Steve lit one lantern making sure it was well shielded from the beach front. The dim camping light allowed him to see Danny's face and silhouette towards the rear of the tent. He'd put their backs against the highest part of the natural out-cropping to leave the tent flap open facing the primary beach. Steve was utterly sapped of energy after pitching the tent and ensuring that Danny was finally comfortable. Or, at least as comfortable as he could be made considering his weakening condition.

Regardless of his own exhaustion, he had taken up a sentry-like posture while sitting at the opening with his knife always at the ready while he scanned the waters, shore-line and listened for any kind of engine. Night had fallen and his chin bobbled to his chest pulling on the neck wounds to keep him awake with a muffled moan. The heat he felt and the near constant headache were both proof that the marks were indeed infected.

Cocooned in the beach towel, Danny was also covered in two light blankets as he lay on top of a sleeping bag in what had become a feverish daze, for his leg too, was showing definite signs of infection. It had been almost two hours since Steve had spoken to Chin and still, nothing had happened. The lapse gave Steve real hope that Sawyer's rendezvous partners had decided to move on. But the time also concerned him for what might be happening at the staging point within the larger project team. He glanced back at Danny as he shifted uncomfortably, mumbled something unintelligible and slowly came awake.

"Steve?" Sighing softly, Steve examined the dark horizon one more time before edging back to check on his partner. The confusion was apparent in his voice as Steve crawled over to kneel next to him.

"What's wrong?" The shivers that ran through his body were caused by the stresses of shock, exhaustion and the cool evening that had settled once the sun had gone completely down. He watched as Danny's face scrunched uncomfortably and his hand pulled both blankets awkwardly off his upper body. Partially awake and only half aware, Danny was restless as sweat dotted his forehead.

"Hot." Firmly bringing up both blankets to object against the complaint, Steve tucked each under Danny's shoulders so they were snug under his chin. More heat was radiating off his body and Steve shook his head worriedly when he shivered uncontrollably a few seconds later.

"Need to stay warm, Danny." The movement and words jolted him more awake and unfocused eyes immediately searched Steve out for reassurance.

"Still here?" Danny was disappointed to see the tent as he whispered the question and Steve nodded to confirm the obvious.

"Chin will get help out here as soon as it's safe."

"How long?" There was a distinct feeling of relief in that Danny was at least coherent, but as the hours dragged by the more dire the situation had become for each of them. Steve rubbed his own burning eyes as a fevered shiver then rocked his shoulders.

"Just about two hours since we spoke to him. It's a reasonable amount of time, Danny. It's getting close to the original mission's endpoint and there should be an appropriate resolution."

The short nod communicated agreement as Danny struggled to keep his eyes open. Fixing the blankets once more though it wasn't necessary, Steve shifted on his knees and anchored one hand on Danny's blanketed chest.

"Try to sleep. We're safe." When Danny dozed off, Steve returned to the front of the tent. He wondered if Chin had gotten word to Catherine as a tiny seed of doubt gnawed uneasily in the back of his mind. Refusing to believe that she and Grace were anything but safe, Steve shook his head ruefully at the negative feelings.

"They're fine." He muttered under his breath. "Grace and Cath are absolutely, perfectly fine."

The night was beautiful and the waters finally more calm. Closing his eyes briefly, he rested and just listened to its peace.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

The odd beeping noise roused Danny and at first he didn't know what he was hearing. He certainly didn't know where he was until his eyes focused on the tent's canvas roof. Turning his head, the sound was coming from Steve - or at least from Steve's wrist watch. But the SEAL was flat-out on his stomach and not responding to the preset alarm.

"Steve. Hey." Danny's voice was weak even to his own ears as the annoying beep steadily continued and a distant rumble became a louder, thump-thump-thump. He almost gave up, closing his eyes again, until the reason for the rhythmic background sound dawned on him. It seemed to dwell in the base of his ears as it strengthened and became even louder.

"Steven." Groaning, he rolled to his side and then balanced himself on an elbow. Glassy-eyed and shivering, he couldn't quite move enough to reach his friend. The only thing he had nearby was a water bottle and he tossed it awkwardly at Steve's prone form. Danny hit him square on the back and the lid fell off to soak Steve with water as he tried again.

"Wake up! Steve." The startled response was immediate as Steve automatically pulled himself to his feet and then fell to his knees holding his head. That dizzying move brought his watch closer to his ear and he winced at the harsh alarm, but then heaved in a shocked breath when he saw the time. He'd fallen asleep and missed the first two-minute window.

"Damn it .. no." He ground out the fact in anger but Danny was panting in pain and pointing towards the tent flap.

'Wait." Danny's voice was soft and raspy, but the sound that drew closer was ominously familiar. "Listen."

It was then Steve heard the helicopter and came fully awake. "Stay here."

Staggering to his feet and fisting his knife, Steve turned off the lantern and missed Danny's aggravated eye-roll as the more injured man slumped back down. Closing his eyes, Danny reflexively shivered from the fever that had taken a stronger hold and then forced himself to roll back to his elbow to face the tent's opening.

"Careful." He whispered as he eyed the red stained towel that had fallen off Steve's shoulders. Consumed by worry, Danny could only wait as he held the spare tent spike defensively in one hand and the chopper roared over-head. The noise was deafening and the tent took on a life of its own as wind whipped the canvas material. Danny couldn't help the surprised gasp when a light cut through the darkness to illuminate the tent in a flash and he winced at its strength. Whoever it was, certainly could see their small encampment now.

Furious with himself for falling asleep, Steve stood in the dark shadows of the shed watching as the helicopter came low towards the tiny islet. The strobe light had lit up the entire area and he'd barely made it to the shadows. He shook off the dizziness and ignored the heat rolling off his neck and shoulders. It had already strafed their location once, sending sand flying off the beach. He hefted his large blade in his right hand as he squinted at the brightly lit dot that now made a wide turn to grow steadily again in size.

As it rapidly approached for a second time, he grimaced in annoyance as the heavy canvas roof of the tent was sent flapping wildly in its loud, passing down-draft. However, its lights lit the numbers on its mostly white underside and tail rotors, making the dual colors obvious even in the dark of night. He almost fell to one knee as a wave of nausea rocked him. But he was completely put at ease by what he now very clearly saw before pulling himself firmly up.

"Chin. It's Chin."

Landing was tricky business and Steve watched for a moment as flares were dropped to light up a portion of the beach. The too-bright strobe light was added to survey the area and help the pilot make the final decision. As he selected a spot and began the careful descent, Steve returned to the tent with his hands raised to calm his upset partner. Danny dropped the tent spike and fell limply back at his words.

"It's okay, Danny. They're here. It's Chin." His face was extremely pale in the light from the battery operated lantern which Steve thumbed back on. Though filtered by the few scrappy bushes and trees, the additional light from the strong strobe reached them from the beach, too. Steve knelt next to Danny noticing the sweat that streamed down his brow and his hands which were shaking from stress.

"Chin?" He nodded when Danny's hand searched for his own in an automatic, relieved reaction. Hiding his worry about the chilled feeling of Danny's fingers that conflicted with the fevered heat, Steve continued to smile as hurried voices approached the tent.

Chin was already calling out to them and Danny heaved a shuddered sigh as he recognized the anxious voice of their friend. Whatever had happened back at the staging point had been timely and Chin had truly gotten to them as quickly as possible. For that, Steve was immensely thankful.

"Yeah. It's Chin with the Coasties. Time to go home, Danno."

 

 

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	7. Chapter 7

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Catherine Rollins nervously paced the lower level of Steve's house for the umpteenth time. After getting Chin's urgent text message, she had suddenly taken ill in the restroom of the restaurant where she, Rita and the three children had an early dinner. At first, Rita had been worried and had wanted everyone to go home. But Cath had insisted that she and the boys at least continue on. Then Rita had kindly offered to keep Grace too so she could enjoy the movie with them. Finding a reasonable excuse to avoid that situation had been momentarily daunting for Catherine. The sudden changes had affected everyone and Cath felt honestly bad for lying to Rita about being unable to reach Grace's mother for permission.

She felt Rita's confusion and empathized with the personal affront. However, all she could do was apologize profusely because Chin never would have sent such a message if it were not urgent. So it had been difficult but not impossible, though Grace's crestfallen face would bother Catherine for a very long time. Then her subterfuge had continued because Grace had frowned so much like her father when they pulled into the HPD parking lot. Grace had also been incredibly blunt as she failed to couch her question not with alarm, but with total annoyance.

_"Why are we here? I thought you were sick?"_

"Out of the mouths of angels." Cath muttered to herself as she senselessly peeked outside again. The two HPD cruisers were still on the street as stalwart partners.

She hadn't known what to say to Grace because she hadn't actually known anything prior to speaking to Duke Lukela. She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to frighten Grace either. So she came up with the quickest cover story that she could while still sitting in the car. With as much sincerity as she could muster, Cath had explained to Grace that Uncle Chin needed them to do some private, undercover work for Danno and Uncle Steve. There was great truth to what she explained especially in that Uncle Chin's secret message had to stay just that - a secret - from Mrs. Sawyer and the boys.

It had been enough for Grace to shake off her initial disappointment at missing the movie. But then things had gone south because Grace refused to go home.

_"We're partners. I'm your back-up so we can't split up. If we're supposed to help Danno and Uncle Steve, then we have to stick together."_

The rationalization was flawless; it was Danny-personified in a little, determined pony-tailed girl who had folded her arms resolutely and stared both Catherine and Duke down with unflinching purpose.

_"We're staying together."_

Duke had laughed warmly and then shrugged to lob the ball back into Catherine's court. With no suitable reply, Cath was absolutely sunk at that point.

So, even though Cath desperately wanted to crash the rescue team and tag along with Chin, she stayed with Grace at Steve's house under HPD protection to wait. That move had also required a call to Rachel who had been momentarily silenced on the phone at the odd request. Only Grace's excitement that she and Catherine were " _working together on a secret mission for Danno_ " kept her mother's added questions to a minimum. Catherine knew that she would owe Rachel Edwards a much more detailed explanation once she knew more.

"Call already." Drumming her fingers mindlessly on the window pane, Catherine checked the time. It was getting very late and Grace had fallen asleep on the sofa. Tasked now with keeping the child safe, Catherine was determined to do just that as her fingers ghosted over the small pistol anchored to her waist.

Hours earlier, Chin had called as soon as he could to describe the critical portions of why the mission had become so " _immensely screwed up_ " as he'd so aptly put it. He had been on his way to meet the Coast Guard rescue team to retrieve both men from the small island. She was admittedly startled to learn that Kono was actively investigating Rita Sawyer until Chin had filled her in while on the run.

Troy Sawyer was not whom he pretended to be; his masquerade had been so flawless, he'd even snookered the FBI for years. That would have been strange unto itself except for the existence of Steve's own mother, Doris McGarrett, who had come back from the dead one fine day with an equally checkered past - and present. Chin knew that Danny was injured. No word on how badly. The  _Mariah_  had sunk and there were no survivors except for Steve and Danny who had made it to a small islet. Wo Fat was mentioned, and Sawyer was not whom anyone thought.

Catherine's head was spinning by the time Chin was done and she'd stared at Grace's inquisitive look after the call ended. The subsequent question left her speechless.  _"Is Danno alright?"_

Her only response had been a faint smile and a promise that Uncle Chin was bringing both him and Uncle Steve home now in a helicopter.  _"They'll call us once they land and then Uncle Chin will tell us what we have to do next."_

Again, that was all the truth even if only partially and omitting a great deal of information. To be fair though, not even Chin knew how badly either man could be hurt. It could be nothing and they could walk through the door any minute. The thought made her look anxiously up and down the dark street, but not a light or person stirred in those wee hours of the morning.

She sighed worriedly and her fingers drummed more loudly in a nervous tic. If the large yacht had indeed been sunk, Steve and Danny had been in the water - no, there was always the dinghy she reminded herself. But something in the back of her head trilled alarmingly because regardless, Steve could also be hurt.

"I know you, Sailor." She breathed out and her breath fogged the pane before dissipating. On edge and very much wide-awake, there was no way Catherine would be sleeping that night as she began her senseless pacing again.

"What happened out there and are you okay?"

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

After the adrenalin spike caused by the arrival of the Coast Guard helicopter, Danny lay back in an exhausted heap as their once too quiet haven now echoed with new voices, shouted commands and the ever-present, but now slower methodical whump-whump as the chopper's blades stilled. He heard Chin and Steve happily welcome each other. But he only managed to open his eyes as a cool strong hand grabbed his wrist and Chin's voice begged him to stay awake.

"Hey, brah. Got here as fast as I could." Chin was grinning wildly but that happiness barely reached his worried eyes. "How are you doing? You got a fever?"

"Been better." The truth was out before he could stop himself as Chin's hold tightened soothingly on his wrist. Both hot and cold, there was a duller ache in his cheek but the pain in his leg was relentless. In simple terms, he felt sick and while he wanted to get off the small islet and far away from the tent, Danny couldn't bear the thought of being moved.

"Grace is .." Chin was bumped from behind and he stuttered mid-sentence as Steve glared warningly at him. He was only going to say that Grace was fine and that Cath was taking care of her. However, the look from Steve clearly said that Danny didn't know and Chin back-pedaled hastily as the injured man stared at him blankly.

"What? Grace .. is what?"

Steve was practically breathing down Chin's neck as the Coast Guard medics tried to push them aside to evaluate Danny. He heard the faint whisper that confirmed Danny had been in the dark about the movie night with Rita Sawyer and so, Chin recovered quickly.

"She's not going to be happy, Danny, if you don't kick this fever, brah. Let these guys fix you up so we can be on our way."

It was a lame and almost ridiculous thing to say but Danny only closed his eyes as the medics descended upon him. There was an eerie dark aura pulling on the fringes of his vision and he found himself much too tired to listen. As voices began to tunnel away from him, Danny exhaled gently and let it all fade.

"Danny?" Chin leaned forward as his friend's breathing altered with Steve worriedly looking to the medics. "What's wrong?"

"He's out." The first had already wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm and had begun to record his respiration and pulse rates. The second was gently examining his cheek and then moving down to the worst injury on his leg.

"Is he okay?" Chin asked quietly as the team worked.

"Blood pressure is low; pulse rate is slow. I'm worried about blood loss." The second nodded as he cleaned Danny's arm for an IV. Their patient was shocky and slightly dehydrated, but the wounded leg was obviously infected supported by the rising body temperature. His partner was clearly unhappy with Danny's depressed vital signs as he affixed an oxygen mask to his face.

"We need to stabilize him and transport as soon as possible, sir."

The second medic pointedly advised Chin with a glance to Steve before frowning at the bruised chin and soiled bandages gracing his neck. A blood-stained beach towel lay rumpled on the ground. The Commander was shirtless having pulled off his ruined tshirt long ago on the beach. Therefore, the bruises on his stomach from the butt of Abe's rifle were also prominent. The medic absorbed all these facts quickly before speaking.

"We'll need to check you out too, Commander."

Steve agreed but with a quick wave of his hand towards Danny as Chin leaned back to get a better view of his neck. He tugged Steve into a seated position with a low whistle and wide eyes. The posture afforded Chin a good look at the two bandages and deeply scored knife wound that hadn't been properly dressed.

"My god, Steve." Putting a hand on Steve's shoulder, Chin felt the sickly heat rising and then motioned anxiously to the same medic. "Yeah, you're right. He's injured and needs to be looked at."

"Danny's worse .. needs their attention. I can wait." Chin ignored the dark refusal as Steve breathed raggedly in through his nose against the nausea which was now visiting him in a most unwelcome way. He couldn't deny that it was now much worse than before as a sick chill rolled through his chest. Letting his head hang almost to his knees, he tried to refuse the pending medical care.

"M'fine. Keep them with Danny .. he's been shot .. and the wound. It's infected."

"What the hell is this?" Chin asked as he tried to get a closer look in the poor light. The long slashing marks shocked him as he realized what he was seeing. He knew that additional fine but deep cuts lay under the soiled bandages that were sagging on his friend's neck.

"You look like you've been filleted by a butcher. Did Sawyer do this?" On his knees by where Steve sat, Chin now kept both hands on his shoulders just clear of the fine, deep wounds while the medic changed direction to look at what Chin pointed out. Steve's skin was hot to the touch and the man's muscles held a subtle tremor from absolute fatigue. With care, the medic peeled back the tape from the two bandages and examined the deep slices with a penlight.

"Parker, when we're done settling Detective Williams, we need to flush and redress these wounds; and run another IV line."

"But." Steve started to object and then was effectively silenced by the adamant young Coastie who had his finger held up high to forestall an argument.

"No sir. I need to check you out. Your partner is ready to be moved, we just need the stretcher. Parker will get that now." Steve stared hard at the man who now firmly held his wrist; the name on his uniform said  _Denning_  and he gave the man a quizzical look. An alcohol pad had magically appeared in his opposite hand and he was already readying another needle for the crook of Steve's arm.

"May I?" He was polite but firm as he pressed forward to care for the somewhat perturbed SEAL.

"Denning?" The young man looked up at Steve briefly and gave him a bright smile followed by a very formal introduction.

"Yes, sir. Master Chief Petty Officer Paul Denning, sir. The Governor is my Uncle, sir."

Steve quieted in his objections as Chin began to chuckle. Narrowing his eyes, Steve pursed his lips at Chin. "You could have told me."

With a deepening grin, Denning cleanly inserted the line and handed Chin the bag of fluids. Before Parker had returned with the portable stretcher, Denning had already recorded Steve's blood pressure and basic vitals signs. Once again, the medic was displeased with the readings and he sighed as he finished his notes and studied Steve's face.

"Thank you, sir. Let's get you outside so we have room to transfer Detective Williams now. We'll finish your triage en route."

Taking Steve's arm, Denning gently helped him ease out of the tent with Chin by his side and then insisted that Steve sit until they were ready with Danny. His quick whisper to Chin before going back into the tent was more of an order, and Chin quickly obliged.

"I don't know how he's on his feet right now. Unless he crashes to the ground in the next five minutes, I doubt I'll be able to get him on a stretcher where he belongs. So please, stay with him."

Crouching down next to Steve, Chin still held the bag of fluids as he put his free hand on his arm to keep him seated. Something else was missing and he wasn't quite sure until he looked around the beach area and didn't see a boat. There was nothing in fact. It was then that Chin gave out with a sharp disbelieving gasp.

"Did you  _swim_  here?" The short nod stunned him but what Steve said next in dull monotone utterly floored the Asian man.

"They shot Danny and threw him over the side. Sawyer had him just tossed overboard. He almost died, Chin. He  _would_  have died. It was almost a miracle that I found him when I did." Steve's voice was low as he virtually talked into his arms with his head bowed so weakly.

"The  _Mariah_  went down with all hands - good riddance to them - and then I had to find Danny. We swam for about two hours until we got back here." Forcing his head up, Steve watched as the medics carefully rushed Danny to the waiting helicopter.

"He almost drowned." Chin knew that he was missing some of the other major details, but what Steve was able to share was enough for him to know and understand what had happened.

With his eyes closed, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose before inhaling deeply about another remembered worry.

"Catherine. Where is she ... and Grace?"

"They're both fine and at your place. HPD has two units parked out front." Chin had a growing list of startling revelations. Kono was nothing if not thorough; perhaps too much so if her intel on both Sawyer and Darlene Smythe was valid. And with Smythe in custody and her agency in an uproar, Chin had zero reasons to doubt his cousin's initial findings.

But he said nothing more when Steve muttered his thanks and appeared to bonelessly deflate in front of him. Denning was jogging back now and Chin grasped Steve under his arm gently.

"Time to go." The man was utterly spent, feverish and ungainly on his feet as pain and stress began to overwhelm him. As he sagged in Chin's hands, Denning was already offering aide on Steve's opposite side.

"Let's go home, Steve. You deserve this free ride."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My OC from previous stories - Doctor Ramirez is making an unexpected guest appearance.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Soundly sleeping, Grace snuggled more under the blankets when the soft knock rapped once on the front door. It opened quietly and Kono squeezed through as Cath smiled and beckoned her to the kitchen.

"They're at the hospital?" Kono nodded. Each had received text messages from Chin, but instead of going directly to Tripler, Kono had called Catherine to come over to the house.

"I'm here because I can stay with Grace." She offered generously as she lay her laptop on the kitchen table. "You should go and see Steve."

"Oh, Kono." Cath was genuinely touched, but flatly refused as she pointed towards the living room. "I appreciate that but I promised Rachel that I'd stay with Grace. This is getting a bit complicated and I'm not sure how I'm going to explain anything about what's happened to her .. or to Grace."

"Call her now." But Catherine shook her head no to that idea, too.

"It's too late to call her and Grace is sound asleep. It will just scare them both; it's going to be better if we wait until dawn. Or, at least for a more reasonable time."

It was three o'clock in the morning and though they both wanted to be at the hospital, things simply weren't working out.

With a sigh, Cath dismally sat down at the table. "So tell me, is Rita involved?"

"No. Only the communications manager has direct ties - Sawyer arranged for her to be involved months ago and there's ad hoc monthly deposits to an off shore account. It was quite the business relationship. I really believe that Rita doesn't have a clue about Troy or what he's done and been involved with. They were married twelve years ago in New York. Just like she told us all along, she was a school teacher before Aidan was born and then simply stayed home after Brendan came along."

Kono sat down across from her friend at the table. "Troy's a real problem though. For us and for the FBI. The internal investigation going on right now within the agency is alarming to say the least and Chin has the Governor directly involved to represent our concerns to the highest levels back in Washington. Over the last five years, he was in Ireland numerous times and they can't justify some of those trips as directly work-related."

"Five years? I'm glad Rita's not involved." Catherine felt like crying when Kono confirmed both her best and worst fears. "But I can't believe he did this to them. The boys are only ten and twelve years old. I can't believe that he did this to any of us. Chin said that he wanted to kill Danny."

"This is a nightmare." Running her hands through her hair, Catherine's eyes finally did fill with tears. "So he would have killed Danny and then delivered Steve to Wo Fat?"

They both missed the silent small shape that came up behind them from the darker living room. Then it was too late when they heard the weepy breath and looked up.

"Who would have killed Daddy?" Catherine's eyes grew in shock as she stared first at Kono who grimaced unhappily. She then hastily wiped her face before turning around to Grace.

"You should be sleeping, Grace." Cath said quietly as she got up from the chair. "Why don't we fix up the spare bedroom now so you can go back to sleep? It's really late."

"No, I don't want to." Instead of moving, Grace resolutely held her ground as she looked from one to the other. "What happened to Danno?"

"Come here, Grace." Giving up on getting the little girl back to bed, Kono held out her hand and then pulled Grace onto her lap.

"You were talking about the special case." The statement was posed to Catherine in an upset but very serious voice. "Is this part of the secret from Mrs. Sawyer?"

Uncomfortable about continuing, Cath finally nodded slowly. "Yes, it is. But we can't tell you about it either, sweetie. No one understands really what happened yet."

"Where's Danno?"

"He and Uncle Steve are both in the hospital right now getting checked out by the doctors. Once we find out more, we are going to phone your mother as soon as it gets to be a more decent hour. So until then, you should go back to bed."

"No. Not yet." Darkly determined eyes met Catherine's own and the woman knew it would be a lost cause. "I don't want to go back to bed. I want to see Danno."

"None of us can go to the hospital, Grace. It's the middle of the night. But Uncle Chin is there because he was on the helicopter."

With that, Cath put coffee on for herself and Kono, and then got a glass for milk for Grace. "I think we are all going to be up now. Maybe we can get some things done that will help the case?"

Kono had some initial files from the FBI on Troy Sawyer and her mind raced to find the most benign items or documents that Grace could be included on. Something where they wouldn't have to discuss the fact that he was now deceased or had truly tried to murder her father.

"Yes, here. We know exactly when Mr. Sawyer went to Ireland. Let's make a chart or a table to see if anything makes sense about his visits. What do you think, Grace?"

Grace had teary eyes, but she smiled. "Danno says the details are very important."

Completely surprised by the choice of words, Cath smiled broadly and heartily agreed. "That's exactly right."

"He says you have to ask the right questions, too."

The proud grin and hug from Kono made Grace smile a bit more, but the praise made her almost laugh. "You are going to be a great Detective just like Danny, kiddo."

An hour later, they had a rough draft of when, where and how long Sawyer had visit Ireland. The approved business related trips were on one page and the confusing unknown trips were on a different page. Unlike the vast majority of his approved and pristinely recorded work-related visits, there were a few gaps in the timeline which couldn't be immediately explained. They sat there in confusion and at a loss until a scanned image for a dinner receipt for a pub in Glengarriff caught Kono's eye as being out of place.

"Why here when he was supposed to be in Dublin that week? This isn't part of the usual pattern and he spent a lot of money. This receipt has to be a mistake; it looks like a personal expenditure that got mixed up with work related things."

"Here's another though. What kind of boutique is this in Glengarriff? What is that a picture of in the corner?" Catherine had found another image in the documentation forwarded by the agency for an odd looking receipt. The scanned version was grainy and the three peered closely at the computer screen.

Grace giggled when she figured out the funny blackened blob before they did on the top of the cash register receipt. "It's a baby carriage and a balloon."

Looking closer, Kono frowned because the receipt was old but Grace was quite right. The logo was for a children's boutique. It was dated nearly three years earlier and detailed for each line item purchased. What she was reading didn't make any sense for a man that at the time, would have had seven and nine year old boys. Not an infant.

"He bought a few baby onesies, a new crib. He bought a crib? And, that looks like ... a stuffed toy or a teddy bear?"

"A gift maybe?" Catherine was confused too as her eyes widened at the final sum total. "Troy Sawyer went to a children's boutique and spent nearly 250 Euro on baby items?"

Folding her arms, Kono leaned back in her chair and pointed to the piece of paper Grace had in front of her. "Okay, kiddo. Other than the obvious first question of whose baby this might be, I need another good question based on these new details that we have. What's a good one for us to ask?"

Grace was quiet for a minute before she yawned and rubbed her eyes. She was getting tired and walking through the documents was boring and taking a long time. The wry grin that Catherine covered up was in the hope that exactly would happen. She was hoping that Grace would either find the tasks tedious or become tired, and now she was at least getting tired after an hour on the computer. But with a sigh, she came up with two questions in a row.

"Umm - how far is it from Dublin to the town and then, where did he stay? Because in Dublin, Mr. Sawyer always stays at the same bed and breakfast."

"Those are two really good questions." Cath admitted as Grace wrote down each one on the paper. "Actually, very good questions."

Pulling up an internet search engine, Kono typed in the query for the distance between the two locations. "That's certainly far enough to be inconvenient."

The map estimated driving time as three hours and forty-five minutes. A long haul for an ad hoc tour during a much more serious business trip. "Dublin is on the east coast and Glengarriff is way down south. It's a cute town and really pretty, but I don't understand why he would go there."

"He must have really wanted to for some  _thing_  - or for someone." Cath muttered to herself before gently rubbing Grace's arm. Even though the pencil was still poised to write another question, Grace's eyes were closing while she was sitting upright in the chair.

"Okay, bed time for real." Chiming in quietly Kono agreed and to compound the demand, she closed the lid on her laptop and gave out with a large, dramatic back-breaking stretch.

"I'm really tired too and we got a lot done. These last two questions are what we need to look into after we get some sleep. I'll send what we found over to his agency to see if they can find anything through their channels." Sleepy but feeling proud, Grace was happy as she finally allowed Cath to escort her to the spare bedroom. But before she turned out the lights, Grace became worried and sad all over again about the hospital.

"Uncle Chin hasn't called. Do you think Danno and Uncle Steve are okay?"

Cath sat quietly on the edge of the bed and hesitated before nodding. "I know that Uncle Chin will call as soon as he can. I think he hasn't called yet because first, he thinks we're all sleeping. Secondly, if something was really bad, he would have called me or Aunt Kono by now. He knows that you are here with us safe and sound."

Both reasons were true. Catherine almost felt better for voicing them herself. As Grace finally closed her eyes, Catherine pulled up the blankets and made a promise. "I will wake you up right away if he calls, deal?"

It made Grace happy and she nodded with a soft smile. "Okay, deal."

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

Someone was speaking to him. It was a steady, low hum of sound with a questioning tone. For a minute, he thought he knew the man's voice. It was strong, familiar and very persistent. Like Steve, but unlike him too because it was much older and possibly even a bit less patient. He thought once he heard a question about his own name and another about being able to open his eyes. Since he only thought he heard the questions .. and if he did, then they were stupid ones .. he ignored them. There was a sharp pressure on his chest and he winced away but still couldn't find the energy to do more than that. He wanted to ask them why they weren't helping him. He did know that  _they_  and  _them_  were doctors and nurses. They were supposed to help him and if he were at the hospital, why did he feel so much worse?

Had he bothered to try harder, he would have seen a rather disturbed doctor with similar complaints regarding an uncooperative patient. Doctor Alphonse 'Ponch' Ramirez was distinctly annoyed with Danny as he shoved his hands deeply into his pockets.

"He's either unable or unwilling to answer." The doctor griped unhappily as he loudly tried once more to get Danny to respond to something. Roughly knuckling the injured man's sternum, Ponch finally straightened worriedly when the soft groan was his only reply.

"Temperature?" His attending nurse helpfully provided the answer and Ponch heaved a sigh as he turned his attention back towards the bullet wound that had been thoroughly cleaned and debrided.

"That's not very good is it, Detective." Muttering to himself, Ponch re-examined the angry wound and decided on his next course of treatment. Silently, he moved past his nurse to gather the necessary supplies.

"Danny why is that damned temperature going up?" With care, he spent time inserting a drain and wrapping it firmly with tape and gauze bandages to keep it in place. He narrowed his eyes when Danny's respiration suddenly hitched again.

"Nurse?"

"His blood pressure and respiration are still depressed, but his heart rate has increased." Rubbing his face, Ponch motioned to increase the flow of oxygen to the nasal cannula. The spontaneous reaction was a sign of discomfort and pain. He'd also have preferred using an actual oxygen mask but the plastic surgeon had just helped him evaluate and suture the wound which traced across Danny's cheek; the larger mask pressed uncomfortably on a good portion of the injury and the two had decided to try and do without it for the short term.

"O2 readings?" Checking quickly, the nurse reconfirmed them at near 93 percent and Ponch nodded. If they dropped, he would use the mask regardless.

Leaning over his friend, Ponch quietly studied Danny's flushed and fevered face before eying the current vital signs carefully. "You're going to be fine, Danny. If you can hear me, you're at Tripler. I'm going to give you a bit more to manage the level of pain you're in ... so just sleep."

Danny's breathing altered significantly as careful fingers continued working on his leg. He was only aware of that pain and the fever that had begun to roll off him. It all made his head murky and thick. He winced as his leg was lifted and something soft was wrapped around it. It was slow and done gently, but still his breath changed again. A few seconds later the same deep voice addressed him. It was soothing but he couldn't understand the words as a warm feeling traced through his right arm and across his body. The pain slowly left and Danny finally relaxed as he lost the tiny hold he had on everything going on around him.

Chin's eyes were burning out of his head as he waited for word on his friends. He knew that Danny's wounds had been flushed and debrided in the emergency room. Both Danny's and Steve's wounds were being evaluated with the assistance of a plastic surgeon. Doctors were concerned about stabilizing both men with Danny being more impacted by the shock of injury and exposure. But as the minutes ticked by, he hadn't been updated on anything more and it was quickly nearing dawn. He looked up as the doors to the ER swung open and he rose to his feet as his friend, Doctor Ramirez, strode purposefully for him.

"How are they?"

"Detective. Please, sit." Ponch's face was dark and serious as he motioned for Chin to resume his seat before sitting down next to him. Chin visibly flinched when the man used their formal work-related titles because it bespoke of his annoyance and genuine concern. If the news was going to be better, he never would have referred to him in such a formal way.

"It's bad." Chin said as he sank back down in the waiting room chair. "How bad?"

"Detective Williams technically has a minor and uncomplicated type of soft tissue injury. Our issue is the prolonged period that occurred between the time of having been shot and this initial treatment. Because of the delay, blood loss and exposure to the ocean environment, his vitals are depressed and an infection has set in and we need to focus our attention on that."

"Alright." Chin took a deep breath before letting it out very slowly. "What are you doing for him? How bad are these complications?"

"He's on a strong battery of IV antibiotics. We're also keeping the wound open and have inserted a drain." The very concerned doctor scratched idly at his forehead before continuing.

"He's quite weak and wasn't able to answer any of my questions so I'm not quite certain about his awareness level. His vitals certainly aren't where I'd like to see them. Plus, his temperature is rising which is adding to my concerns. In the field, it was one hundred one and in the last couple of hours it's risen to almost one hundred three. He's a very sick man, but if we get this under control with the right course of medicines, he  _should_  fully recover. Until then, we are keeping him in the ICU. He's being settled there now."

Chin was quiet as he absorbed the very guarded news; before he could inquire about Steve, Ramirez was voluntarily moving on. "Your Commander is quite .. typical. I wonder often, why I would think anything else would happen with that man."

The warm grin bordered on a professional sarcasm and Chin could imagine exactly what the doctor was getting at. Steve had barely made it to the helicopter and then had seemingly collapsed from exhaustion inch by reluctant inch. However, as if an internal warning device had chimed, he had roused just as they arrived on the roof helipad at Tripler. By then, he and Denning had him firmly strapped to a second board which incurred incessant, albeit senseless, complaining all the way down to the trauma area.

To help him along, Chin chuffed a very knowing sound. "So let me guess. He tried to refuse treatment and find out about Danny by way of explaining how perfectly fine he was?"

"Quite." Ramirez answered dryly before giving out with a disgusted chuckle. He had eons of practice with driven military officers and hard-working soldiers and the agitated SEAL was no different. Perhaps a bit more adamant and even astonishingly creative, but he'd personally taken care of each and every excuse or attempted rational comment.

"The Commander is currently sleeping under protest in a private room on the third floor. Significant protest." Chin smiled at the implications of Ramirez's comically raised eyebrows.

"I expect him to sleep no less than ten or twelve very comfortable hours. He's bruised and a bit battered, but has no broken bones. The knife wounds were deeply scored and barely missed damaging significant nerve bundles. Barely. Each stroke was very ... specific."

The doctor's face tightened angrily when Chin's face paled at the words. He'd not seen anything so methodically flayed at any time in his professional career. "There's been no lasting damage though. They've been flushed and well-dressed. As with our Detective, though not as yet severe, he also has infection setting in and is going through a heavy course of antibiotics."

"So, he'll be fine? But Danny isn't quite out of the woods yet?" Still worried about the infections and necessary treatments, Chin was fairly relieved by the updates and the doctor's calming demeanor.

"No, Danny isn't out of the woods yet, but we'll get him there." Sobering, Ponch agreed to that as he got to his feet and habitually shoved his hands deeply into his pockets. He was a big man and he towered almost menacingly over Chin before pointing towards the door.

"They are going to sleep for hours. I'd suggest making your calls and getting some rest for yourself. Come back later today."

When Chin didn't move, Ponch checked his watch. Sighing deeply, he grimaced sympathetically since Chin had patiently waited for so long. "Fine. Feel free to poke your head in on each before you leave. But do not disturb them."

Chin's first visit was to Steve's private room. He didn't stay long since Ponch was quite correct in describing Steve's somnolent state. Propped on his side to take pressure off the worst of the wounds, his face wasn't yet calm as he seemed to object to his enforced period of rest with the help of heavy drugs. However, Chin knew that would change as his body took over and welcomed the time to heal.

Quietly sneaking out, Chin made his way to the ICU and was immediately distressed by what he considered to be a significant difference between the two men. Pulling up a chair, Chin slowly sat down next to Danny's bedside. The restless, fevered ramblings were nonsensical as Danny's hands flexed weakly in the bedding and his head twitched from side to side.

"You better beat this, Danny. We aren't going to let Sawyer win. Not this way." Suddenly worried, Chin looked up as a nurse hovered by the heart monitor. When she met his eyes, he couldn't help stating the obvious.

"He's worse." The nurse nodded to agree as she added another blanket to the two that covered Danny up to his chest.

"I'm sorry. Not enough time has passed for the antibiotics to do their job. But they will. Doctor Ramirez will see to that." He appreciated her kindness and optimism as Danny quietly moaned about something under his breath.

Without waiting for permission, Chin wiped the fatigue from his face and got comfortable in the ridiculously uncomfortable side chair. He suddenly wasn't willing to follow the stern doctor's earlier warnings about over-staying his welcome or getting some rest himself. Using the pre-dawn hour as a reasonable excuse along with Doctor Ramirez's comments about the length of time each injured man might sleep, Chin begged off contacting Kono and Catherine. Mentally promising that he would ask their forgiveness at a more reasonable hour of the morning, he put his elbows on his knees and tented his fingers to watch and wait.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	9. Chapter 9

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER NINE**

Billy Selway was standing at the foot of his bed. He saw him clear as day but when Billy opened his mouth to speak, his face became Steve's and Danny watched in horror as he disappeared only to replaced once again by Billy. He could smell the much too-fishy sea water that was left behind each time Billy visited him. It lingered to slowly fill the room and Danny gagged.

"Billy." He breathed it out as a small fearful whimper and then smelled the stench rising. Danny knew there would be a puddle where Billy/Steve had been standing just staring at him. The water smelled foul and stagnant as if it had been pooling for years to drip and reek off Billy's Boy Scout uniform. It didn't matter that Billy had never been in the Boy Scouts. He evidently was now even though he was very dead. He had drowned and was paying a visit to Danny but this time, he had come to take Steve.

Splintered feverish memories came and went as Danny suddenly struggled against Troy Sawyer. The ex-agent was determined to kill him and Danny fought blindly to get away. Sawyer was holding him down and leering at him as he finally felt the water cover his back, then his arms and finally his face. It was a cold greenish murky water that smelled more foul than what Billy had brought with him. Breathing wildly, Danny tried to shout and then coughed as the water entered his mouth. He was drowning as Sawyer laughed heartily.

What he was wholly unable to realize was that he was fighting Chin and an ICU nurse as another frantically paged Doctor Ramirez. Unable to hear or understand their pleas, Danny was deaf to the reality of the true argument going on in the room.

"Danny, it's Chin. Easy there, brah. Please." Chin was breathless and spotted with blood as he helped the nurses keep Danny down. "Please, Danny."

Blood ran down Danny's arm where he'd torn off the IV port at the very beginning of the delirious episodes. That same blood was now smeared messily across Chin's arm and shirt. He'd woken Chin from a deep doze when a garbled shout weakly signaled the first signs of trouble caused by the spike in his still rising temperature. Hampered only by the hospital bed's raised side rails,, Danny had tried to get away from a frightening hallucination and had ripped out his IV. Chin had called for help as alarms sounded and Danny's wheezed terrors escalated.

Laying almost across his chest now, Chin held both of Danny's arms as he finally began to weaken. The nurse had focused on protecting the drains in the injured leg and she groaned in relief as he seemed to run out of energy. But under his own chest, Chin could feel the heat of the fever and Danny's continued erratic heart beat. His breathing was conversely shallow and labored as he moaned sadly.

"Where is he?" Chin was panting and not willing to release his friend quite yet as fevered tremors rolled through his shoulders. "Where's the doctor?"

"He's coming. He's on his way." The nurses were an organized tag team as they worked to stem the bleeding in the torn skin and ensure Danny's leg hadn't been compromised.

"Danny, just take it easy." Chin whispered worriedly as Danny's eyes continued to roll behind his closed lids. Whatever memory or dream he was experiencing was no doubt overwhelming and frightening; and it still hadn't ended as Danny's hands twitched against Chin's wrists.

A third nurse came running in with supplies to clean the newest wound and to also lay another IV line. She had wisely brought a cool wet cloth and she took a second to judiciously wipe Danny's flushed face from sweat and heat.

He stilled momentarily as she continued down to his neck before almost sighing. It was then that Chin heard the first words that he could understand. Yet they didn't make sense.

"Billy .. Billy's dead." It confused him entirely and Chin could only try to soothe the ramblings. "He's here."

"Danny, you're okay. Who's Billy? Huh?" Chin continued holding Danny's hands when the strange name suddenly switched to  _Steve_  and the struggle's seemed to renew. " No one's here."

"Steve. Killed him .. I did it." Danny's hands flexed and Chin leaned into the feeble attempt to get up from the bed. "My fault Steve's dead."

"Steve? No, he's not dead, Danny." Chin tried again as Danny tossed his head miserably and whispered something that Chin completely missed. He was having trouble keeping up as Danny flickered between too many disjointed thoughts.

"Steve is not dead. Can you open your eyes for me?"

The four people in the room looked up in relief when Doctor Ramirez stalled in the doorway. He quickly took in the blood, Danny's distress and restraint at Chin's hands, plus the nurse that remained focused on protecting the injured leg.

"Has he seized?" It wasn't the question that Chin expected and he looked in shock from one nurse to Ponch's stern face.

"No, sir. His temperature is spiking to one hundred five and he's delirious." Ponch frowned unhappily as he eyed the pressure bandage being wrapped around Danny's bloodied arm. "We can't wake him and he's extremely agitated."

"Lay another IV line and push fluids. I want him on a maximum dose of IV paracetamol; 4000 milligrams. " With a warning look towards Chin, he set his lips firmly. "You can't stay there all day. We may have to restrain him."

Chin paled and then shook his head as Danny moved under his hands. "What do you mean? Like physical restraints?" When Ponch didn't immediately reply, Chin shook his head again.

"He's .. Doc .. no. Won't that just make this worse?"

"He's already hurt himself and is incoherent." Ponch was quiet and outwardly calm as he mentally weighed new treatment options. But he was professionally worried as Danny's vital signs continued to be erratic and the fever increased to an alarming level. The mutterings were beginning again and he watched as Chin's fingers tightened on the sick man's arms as he weakly tried to heave upwards.

This time he unseated the nurse and Ponch flinched as Danny's leg connected with a portion of the bed rail. He groaned in annoyance when a spot of blood appeared near the drain and then seeped across the bandages. It was the key deciding factor as the doctor took responsibility for the unpopular decision.

"I'm not sure I can risk a sedative. His vitals are already depressed and he's hurting himself." With limited options, Ponch motioned to the nurses as Danny bucked under Chin's hold and almost banged his injured leg a second time.

"He won't be left alone. You can also stay and help, but we do need to restrain him." As a nurse left the room to get the necessary restraints, Ponch continued to work. Pointing to the second nurse, the doctor began to strip away the sheets and blankets. She made her mental list as the doctor spouted demands and completely lowered the head of the bed.

"Get warm water and a sponge. A clean light sheet. Cold compresses. Fresh bandages, sutures and a new drain. I need a sterile environment." For Chin's benefit, he put an understanding hand on the man's back. Chin was still in denial even though Danny's struggles were renewing.

As he moaned for the mysterious Billy to leave him alone, Chin looked up at Ponch who's fingers now tightly gripped his shoulder in support. "I don't even know who he's talking about."

Ponch offered him a sympathetic half-smile as his nurses hurriedly returned with the requested supplies. "We'll do this together until it passes."

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

"How long have we been here?" Steve coughed to clear a raspy throat while wedging himself up higher in the bed. He had woken to find both Catherine and Kono talking quietly in the corner of his hospital room. It had taken him a moment to find his bearings and then his voice. The first question he could think to ask had to do with the time because the answer to the second would be more important and telling.

"Where's Danny? How is he?" He scrubbed at his face and then ran his fingers roughly through his hair. He needed a shave badly and a long, hot shower would be next on the list. Steve felt as if he'd been run over by a very large Mack truck - or actually, a yacht - but he was relieved to find only one IV port tracing into his arm.

"Well, good afternoon to you too." Catherine drawled with a pleased grin which faded as Steve quirked an eyebrow at her and then attempted to kick the thin hospital blankets off his legs.

"Afternoon?" He almost barked out the word but wound up coughing raggedly which pulled on his sore stomach muscles. Hours had passed in a peaceful sense of oblivion and he needed to move.

"Yes, afternoon. Stay in bed, Steve!" At first, both Catherine and Kono tried to step in together in order to keep him where he should be. "You need to stay right where you are."

Sighing, Steve gave in temporarily as Cath plumped the pillows and insisted that he lay back down. "Cath .. what's been going on?"

Reading the expression all too well, she simply answered the questions in order and then offered more information voluntarily. "You both got here fourteen hours ago. According to what we know from Chin, you each spent considerable time down in trauma. You sailor, have been sleeping at least nine or so of those fourteen hours. The cuts you have on your neck have been cleaned and you're on a strong course of antibiotics. Your fever has already dropped."

"Good. And?" Catherine tweaked the blankets back up but Steve wasn't having any part of the diversion. Grabbing her fingers, he made her stop as he demanded an answer to the most important question.

"Where's Danny?" She glanced unhappily to Kono who had walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. Her eyes were worried as she gave him a short update.

"He's in the ICU, Steve. He's not doing as well as you are, but Doctor Ramirez is relentless. Chin's been with Danny the entire time." Kono's voice was strained and warned of an issue which set him on edge.

"In fact, he's down there now."

"What exactly is going on?" The way Steve woke was not what either Kono or Catherine had anticipated, but before they could answer, Grace ran through the door. She was crying as she reached the side of the bed and collapsed face down on Steve's arm.

"Uncle Steve. They won't let me see Danno and he's so sick! They said I was too little." He glared over the top of the distraught little girl's head at Kono as the rapid clack-clack of Rachel's heels came closer to the room.

"Climb up here. I'm sure everything is going to be fine." He patted the bed and Grace was in his arms before he knew it. Though she pressed accidentally on his bruised stomach, she was consciously careful of his other bandages as she sobbed into his chest.

"I want to see him."

"It's okay, Gracie. The ICU is a very special place in the hospital and sometimes visitors aren't allowed there. Now someone, tell me exactly what's happening with Danny?" Steve hid his worry from Grace as Kono briefly described Danny's continued poor vitals and increasing fever. He realized that there might be some major verbal editing in lieu of Grace's presence so he listened closely as Kono spoke first.

"The wound is badly infected and they're concerned about sepsis. They won't allow Grace in the ICU because she's too young." Kono's very careful ' _too young_ ' comment meant more that Grace shouldn't see her father so ill and Steve nodded in understanding. More often, children weren't allowed there as a rule. As he looked past them to Rachel, he could easily see the stress in her eyes too.

"Grace, be careful please." When she saw her daughter on the bed, Rachel's words were laced with a weary sadness but they lacked any real authority. By the quiet tone, Steve also knew that Rachel was equally concerned. There was something about her expression that begged him to find a way to calm Grace and he tried without knowing as much as he'd still like. It also said much more was wrong and he looked warily again at Kono's pensive face.

"So. Okay." Steve took a deep breath before focusing on Grace. "So, Uncle Chin is with Danno then?"

"He's been there all night and all day. He called this morning like he promised and we came right over but I wasn't allowed to see Danno at all." Grace admitted as sniffles reached his ears and he managed to grin lightly for her.

"I know you're upset, Grace. But it's really okay because he's not alone. I'm sure Danno's in good hands, Grace."

"He is." Whispered Rachel. "He is. Both Doctor Ramirez and Chin promised to call once we could see Danny. But he is quite ill with a high fever and now we have to wait just a little bit longer. We should go home, Grace, while your father tries to sleep."

There was movement in the hallway and Steve tightened his hold on Grace as she cried quietly. It was Chin and he clearly saw the now dried blood marks on his friend's shirt. Chin's face was a pale blur as he peeked in and saw Grace before quickly leaving. But the sight was enough for Steve to understand more of the current concerns.

Gently rubbing Grace's back, he managed to get her to tilt her face up. "I think Danno needs to sleep a bit more and then you can see him when he's better. Why don't you go home with your mom now? You have lots of people promising to call you. You know that Doctor Ramirez is the best and he always keeps his promises, right?"

Grace wiped her eyes and then nodded to finally agree. Before getting off the bed, she hugged Steve hard again before fleeing to her mother who gave Steve a quick, grateful smile.

"Steve, I'm glad you're better. We'll be back later. As soon as Doctor Ramirez calls in fact." Seconds after they had left, Chin was striding into the hospital room. He oddly had a wheelchair and a nurse in tow. Steve barely hesitated in trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed because they were all moving in tandem now, including Catherine.

"He needs to hear your voice." Steve could count on the fingers of one hand the times he had seen Chin Ho Kelly looking haggard and worn. He added 'deeply concerned' as his friend thumbed the wheelchair's brakes on.

"He's delirious and he's not making any sense, Steve. He's going on about someone named Billy. He also seems to think he killed you."

The nurse had already brought over Steve's IV fluids to the portable stem mounted on the wheelchair. She lowered the bed to help him more easily move from bed to chair. He hissed as the movement pulled on his sore neck and shoulders, but his alarm was growing the more he learned. Sick and feverish, Danny was reliving not only parts of his past, but the accidental destruction of the  _Mariah_.

"He actually is." Nodding and then wincing in frustration at the ache he caused himself, Steve knew exactly the reasons for the confusing ramblings. "It makes sense to me. I get it and I need to see him."

Are you okay?" Cath asked as he blinked past a light-headed feeling and then coughed uncomfortably. He felt off and not quite right, but waved his hand in the air as the feeling slowly ebbed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Kissing the top of his head, Cath rolled her eyes at his distracted reply before motioning for Chin and the nurse to continue out of the room. He was in a certain mood and she knew better than to try and alter its course. It was understandable and frankly, all Steve, so she truly expected nothing else. Smiling patiently and with full understanding, Cath lingered behind with Kono.

"You're not coming?" Steve's comment was enough to placate her and Cath merely shrugged. He had noticed that she and Kono were obviously beginning to gather their belongings with another purpose in mind.

"Kono and I have to talk to Rita Sawyer. We'll be back later. Go see, Danny." It was yet another oddity and Steve completely hesitated this time as he looked from Kono to Catherine.

"We've all stopped in to see him this morning, Steve. His fever is still high and they're having some trouble getting the infection under control." The explanation from his youngest teammate was still riddled with unspoken worry as Kono stood near Catherine.

It was Chin that reiterated his first comment as they all left the room in two different directions. Though Grace might be too young, Ponch had been adamant that family spend time trying to break through the delirium as the fever was brought under control. Including Rachel, they had each quietly rotated through to sit quietly with Danny while Chin was ever-present; but to no lasting benefit.

"Danny needs to hear the sound of another friendly voice. Doctor Ramirez wanted you to see him as soon as you felt up to it."

Steve didn't miss the not so small amount of hope in Chin's strained words as he kept pace with the wheelchair. "So, if you do know what he's talking about ... it should help."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	10. Chapter 10

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER TEN**

"I understand what you're telling me, Chin. I understand why it was done and I get it. But he's exhausted after all this time; and damn it, enough is enough." Steve was still angry as he gently removed Danny's wrists from each restraint. Even though Chin had warned him in the elevator, Steve had been shocked by what he saw when wheeled into Danny's room. Both wrists were tied low to the bed rails as Danny persistently writhed and fought to break free. While the method certainly prevented him from hurting himself and others, it was now only serving to exacerbate the feverish ramblings.

His injured leg had been elevated on a pillow but also mechanically restrained by the use of a heavy splint to prevent additional damage to the newly flushed and re-sutured drain. Two nurses were with him and gently bathing his face and neck with lukewarm water. Readings were being monitored and he certainly was not alone. And while that all seemed almost benignly acceptable, Steve had seen enough of Danny's obvious ongoing distress within seconds of arriving.

 _"He feels trapped."_  Steve had angrily gotten out of the wheelchair with Chin at his elbow and ground out his demand at the first face he saw.  _"Get those things off his wrists. Now._ "

But the nurses had sharply declined his request and a not so quiet argument had taken place. Steve had just taken matters into his own hands by brusquely moving them aside. While his partner was far from completely quiet, he lay virtually spent in the hospital bed as a third unsuspecting nurse returned with a refreshed basin of tepid water.

"Go take a break." Not only had he just removed the two wrist restraints which had been attached to the bed rails, Steve had lowered one rail and was now perched firmly next to Danny's right hip. He was close to the splint but well away from the injury and from where the drain had been inserted. One hand lay firmly in the center of Danny's chest to prevent any movement as he talked to Chin over his shoulder.

"He's fine, Chin. Go take a break and get off your feet." There was too much activity in the small hospital room and he meant his initial demand for the nurses more so than Chin, but he repeated himself when he saw the man's escalating stress level.

"Do you need anything?" Chin whispered remorsefully to the back of Steve's head and was relieved when the man turned around with a genuine smile.

"I'm good. Trust me .. stop worrying about this. It's okay, but it's over. You should take a break too; get some coffee and something to eat."

The nurses had confronted Steve much more adamantly than Chin to the point where they'd threatened to call security in order to remove him from the ICU. Fearful of Doctor Ramirez's wrath, they were frustrated by the SEAL's forceful arrival and subsequent response to seeing Danny restrained. The fact that he was now giving them orders wasn't sitting well either.

"It's for his own safety. He's already damaged his arm and re-injured his leg. Doctor Ramirez's orders were quite clear. Only he has authority to remove those." The eldest nurse pushed one final time but stopped when Steve returned unsteadily to his feet. His wheelchair was off to the side and his connection to his own IV line drew taut as he stood. His hospital gown was completely askew, but his anger made her take a full step backwards.

"It's become counter-productive and I'll deal with Ponch." The nurse was obviously startled by Steve's use of the familiar nickname and she frowned as she looked at him a bit differently.

"I'll make it personally clear to him that you distinctly objected. You can leave now."

She retreated reluctantly and Steve allowed himself to resume his seat. He immediately had to intercept Danny's newly freed right hand when it jolted upwards towards his face and the oxygen mask. The mask was intentionally elevated on one side with a rolled up piece of gauze to keep it from resting directly on the stitched cheek and it would be relatively easy for Danny to pull off.

"Don't make a liar of me, Danno. I just took on the biggest, meanest nurse this place has to offer and I'm sure that her " _I told you so_ " would hurt. Badly."

But Steve grabbed his fingers and then fisted the front of Danny's heat-soaked hospital gown when his upper body suddenly heaved. Leaning forward, he easily recognized what Chin had not been able to hear or understand very well.

"Billy .. drowned .. can't reach him. Steve?" The words were faint but quite clear to him and Steve could easily derive their meaning. "Killed him."

Keeping a firm hold of Danny's chest and hand, Steve started to talk.

"What did I tell you before, Danno? It was just yesterday." He started there on the  _Mariah_  as the fingers of Danny's left hand slowly curled around his wrist.

"Do you remember what I told you after that damned yacht blew up in all its glory?"

The sigh that puffed the oxygen mask seemed confused and hesitant as Danny's brow furrowed. "No .. not sure. Billy's here."

"Think, Danny. What did I tell you?" Steve grinned as Danny's weak mutterings eased slightly behind the oxygen mask. His fingers twitched again but Danny stopped tugging against his hand as Steve quickly continued.

"I told you the truth that you did good and saved us .. you saved me and we're both fine. You owe me an explanation by the way because I still don't know what you did."

"Sawyer." His grin faded immediately to be replaced by a narrow-eyed anger as Danny's face contorted in pain. Danny tried again to get up and Steve had to hold him down as he panted out broken words related to the faked mission. "Sawyer .. he's .. it's all wrong."

It wasn't where Steve wanted to go and he felt like he lost the small amount of headway gained as Danny tried to convulse away from him. Keeping one hand wrapped in Danny's weak grip, Steve snagged the sponge that had been floating in the basin of water. Though some dripped down his arm and the bed, he awkwardly wiped Danny's forehead and neck.

"Forget about him, Danno. He's gone. Think about Grace and getting better." He worked at a snail's pace, talking and rinsing the sponge with one hand until Danny seemed to completely relax. It took time and a nurse hesitantly popped her head in to check on them, leaving quickly when she saw that things were indeed under control.

Steve sensed her arrival and subsequent departure but completely ignored her. He waited as Danny seemed to struggle to finally wake. The next word brought his smile back as hazy, unfocused eyes partly opened.

"Steve?"

"You bet, Danno." Continuing to rinse and then wipe the heat from his partner's face, Steve's smile grew as Danny tracked him and then briefly looked around the hospital room.

"Not here?" The confused worry meant  _Billy Selway_  and Steve patiently waited when Danny's eyes settled on the foot of the bed as if expecting to see a ghost. He swallowed hard as he took in a short, shallow breath and shook his head.

"He was here. Saw him."

"No, he's not here. Never was buddy. You've just been sick and your mind is playing tricks on you. He's not here and well .. I am ... you did good, Danny. Do you remember what happened?"

Trying to moisten lips that were dry from fever, Danny's eyes found Steve's face again and studied him closely. The dark bruise was evident on his chin, as was the fact he was wearing a hospital gown. He found the IV and traced the line to the fluids hanging near Steve, before dropping down to the damp sponge that Steve held loosely in his free hand. Both hot and cold, he shivered and blinked through the confusion before arriving at one simple conclusion.

"Hospital?"

The loopy lop-sided grin on Steve's happy face was enough approval as Chin wandered quietly back into the room. Danny partially lifted his hand as a muffled word or two of welcome were tiredly whispered.

"Hey .. Chin." He rocked to a stunned halt behind Steve and then didn't know what to say. Knees wobbly, Chin's face was pale and tight from fatigue as he simply stared from Steve to Danny before collapsing bonelessly into the side chair.

He was still rubbing his eyes when Steve gave Danny a tiny shake. "You had better say more than hello to Chin, Danny. You've just about shaved fifty years off his life."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Danny barely managed to remain awake for five minutes after Chin returned to the room. Though unsettling feelings remained at the cusp of his memory, the splintered frightening thoughts were fading. It wasn't the same for Chin though who had swapped places with Steve for a short time and he sat on the edge of the bed as Danny closed his eyes. He watched almost warily in case the dreams or hallucinations should return so soon.

"He's turned a corner, Chin. He's going to get better." Sitting now in the wheelchair, Steve gently sketched his fingers around his own bandages. The wounds were hot and itchy and he was suddenly feeling very fatigued himself.

Chin palmed his face wearily as Danny fell asleep. He was about to whisper something to Steve when a large shape loomed in the doorway.

"Both of you, out now." The deeply stern voice didn't disturb the patient, but Chin and Steve both looked up with a start. Doctor Ramirez and a nurse that neither man recognized waited for them to react to the firm demand. Gesturing to the hallway, Ramirez repeated himself more loudly. "Move."

Steve's expression matched Doctor Ramirez's angry line for angry line as Chin maneuvered him quietly from the bedside in the wheelchair. They expected the doctor to follow but were surprised when he and the nurse went into Danny's room where they stayed for many minutes. When only Ponch came out, it was clear that he was still in a rage, though well in control of that temper as he steered them to a somewhat private corner.

"There are certain allowances that I've granted you and your team, Commander. But you will not take advantage of them to such an extent." He towered over Steve who remained seated in the wheelchair and his demeanor was not to be challenged.

"You will not jeopardize my patients or my staff now or in the future. You will not put my staff in such an awkward position or you will be forcibly removed by security. Have I made myself clear?" Steve's eyes met the challenge head-on though he bit his tongue and absorbed the older man's justifiable anger.

"Understood. But you wanted me in here to talk sense into him." Steve ground out between his teeth. He wanted to say more and would have, if not for Chin's settling hand on his arm. Ramirez was irate and no longer tolerant as he stared them down and pointed towards the ICU doors. The nurses had retreated long ago to the main desk or other patients' rooms though most were discreetly listening to what they could hear of the harshly whispered altercation.

"Talking. Talking to try and keep him calm. Not taking it upon yourself to countermand proper medical protocol. And absolutely not ordering my staff about as if they were boorish mules." Ponch's hands were fisted deeply in his pockets to avoid the dent he wished to make in the nearest plaster wall.

"I do not need to explain to you the definition of protocol nor the necessity of precaution in particular circumstances. Precautionary measures to protect not only the individual in question, but one's team."

Chin blanched noticeably as the argument began to escalate in the corner of the hallway. Standing behind the wheelchair, he could only keep one hand on Steve's arm and the other on the chair's handle. While he expected some fall-out from Steve's argument with the ICU staff, he hadn't anticipated the potential magnitude of Doctor Ramirez's personal affront.

"This is Danny we're talking about!" The anger in Steve's voice rose in direct response to the doctor's fury but he found himself interrupted and set rudely on his ear. "He didn't need ..."

"Enough!" Ponch's no-nonsense confirmation rang menacingly in the hallway. The one word effectively silenced Steve's growing defensive argument.

"He did and so, he  _was_  with the utmost care and consideration. It was done to protect himself and my team from further harm. You will not dare to question me again, Commander. Not within these walls."

There was a long uncomfortable moment of silence as the three regarded each other. Doctor Ramirez spoke first and his quiet admittance was finally enough to cut Steve to the quick. "It seems that I made an error in judgement."

Before Steve could build an adequate response in his stunned brain, Ponch was pointing to the double-doors. "Visiting hours have ended for you, gentlemen."

"Now wait a minute." Steve did push against Chin's restraining hand as he completely objected to Ponch's final edict. Though it seemed irrational, he was immediately fearful that the doctor had re-fastened the restraints in order to return to his original orders. His heart lurched as he glanced worriedly back towards Danny's room. The nurse had yet to appear as the doctor glared down at him.

"Doc, what's going on in there?"

His anger resurfaced and Ponch virtually grew in stature as he lurked over both men. He briefly let Steve stew on that potential thought for a long moment. As a type of penance, their assumption was to be that the restraints had not been used for a second time but he refused to actually give them the satisfaction by voicing it. Instead, the large man sunk his hands deeply into his coat pockets to hide an angry tremble while the fingers on each hand wadded the hidden soft straps to each restraint into a jumbled mass of material.

His coldly professional words were at first all he offered as he stood as if to block their way back to the room. "Detective Williams is resting comfortably. His temperature is elevated but has dropped two points since the last readings were taken. Vital signs are stabilizing but he'll remain here in the ICU until I see further improvements."

As he finished speaking, Ponch yanked the material from his coat and tossed it rudely to Steve's lap. He was close to the Five-0 team; perhaps too close. So on one level while he appreciated that Danny was resting quietly, he could not professionally ignore the disrespect shown not only for his medical decision but to his skilled staff. Within the walls of his hospital, his allegiance was to those in his employ and his obligation only to the well-being of his patients.

His stiff posture and extremely unfriendly attitude forced Steve to acknowledge the line he had crossed. Those who worked on a daily basis and who had experienced the man's wrath would not be surprised by his current attitude. However, what had only been a comical rumor to Steve and the rest of the Five-0 team was now a reality. Doctor Ramirez was not a man to be so idly crossed when it came to the welfare of his patients.

Steve had gone too far and had clearly over-stepped his bounds and his friend's kindness when the man would have fully worked with him. A certain level of trust had been gravely injured.

"Doc, I didn't mean ..." Steve was mortified as he fisted the material he now held. Opening his mouth to apologize, the doctor shook his head as he took a full step backwards away from the two Five-0 men. He wasn't in the mood for apologies or further discussions as he pointed once more to the exit.

"It's time for you to leave." Chin's only recourse was to have them both retreat from the ICU. When he looked back, Ponch had already turned abruptly on his heel for the inner recesses of the unit.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

Two days later, Steve had been released from the hospital and Danny had finally been moved to a private room. While he had generally improved, his temperature was still elevated and a new regimen of antibiotics was now being used. He was sitting quietly in a wheelchair after having picked through a light, distasteful breakfast of applesauce, yogurt, hot oatmeal and plain tea. The supposed meal gave him a headache and in a mild temper, he finally pushed it away.

"You need to eat, Danny." The soft female voice was at first foreign and he frowned as he looked up. Rita Sawyer stood by herself hesitantly in the doorway. Her blue pocketbook was held nervously like a shield in front of her while she worried it's leather straps. She was pale and already near tears after watching him for only a few seconds.

"You need to eat." It was clear that she didn't know what else to say as her voice broke. He stared at her equally shocked by her unannounced visit.

"Rita. I didn't expect to see you." Danny's emotions were torn as they kept a distinct physical distance from each other. He felt oddly trapped and vulnerable in the wheelchair with his leg raised awkwardly in front of him. She seemed to sense his discomfort and was about to apologize and leave when Steve entered the room.

His eyes widened in surprise as he looked at Danny and then edged past the woman to stand between Troy Sawyer's widow and his friend. "Rita. Why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure Danny was alright." A tear rolled down her cheek and then she did back up in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I didn't know and I wanted to apologize." She was shaking now and nearly dropped her bag when her fingers plunged inside to find the small bag of tissues.

"Now is not a good time." Steve's voice was strained and uncertain as he glanced at Danny's face. His cheeks were still flushed with fever and yet he was strangely pale.

"Or, is it? Danny, are you okay?"

"Sure. It's a good time." The left-over scent from breakfast was beginning to bother him and he swallowed hard. But smiling, Danny slightly relaxed before nodding. "It's fine. I'm fine."

Rita's lips quirked into a false attempt at a matching smile as some of the tension eased in the room. "He had another wife you know. He has another son in Ireland." Her eyes were full of tears now as a short odd laugh bubbled up and she shrugged vainly.

"I guess I"m incredibly stupid and always have been. Years worth of stupid." Danny glanced once towards Steve before pointing to the closest chair.

"Rita, stay for a while." The look asked Steve to leave the room so that he could speak to Rita - alone.

The darkly shared response distinctly declined the request until Danny pointedly glared at him. Under his breath, Steve's voice was a very soft murmur.

"Are you sure?" The lack of reply shouted out a  _yes_  as Danny once again gestured to the chair and insisted that Rita stay.

"Rita, please sit down." The team knew now that Rita had definitely not been involved in Troy Sawyer's duplicity. Kono and Cath's research, the few questions that Grace had so happily crafted, and the added investigation done by the ex-agent's field office had uncovered the added shocking truth of the second young family in Ireland.

That 'marriage' was technically null and void as it happened well after his legal marriage to Rita. His young 'wife' had an illegitimate son and was reportedly in as much shock as Rita Sawyer.

Reluctantly, Steve paused before striding from the room. He held no animosity towards Rita; in fact, none of them did. They were all shocked by the depths of Troy Sawyer's deceit. But he stayed close in the hallway for Danny's sake as he and Rita Sawyer shared what he hoped would be a brief visit. His partner didn't look well and while he wanted to talk to her, the visit could be premature.

So Steve loitered in the hallway scarcely ten feet away. Not exactly eavesdropping but not even remotely attempting to be invisible. The poor woman's reality had been turned upside down where her entire twelve years of marriage were a complete and utterly contrived lie. That very morning, she had also realized that Catherine's illness at dinner had also been an elaborate ploy orchestrated by Chin Ho Kelly as demanded by Steve.

They had been afraid of her; they had thought she might be a bad person, too. They had all thought that she might hurt Catherine or Grace and so, the hurts continued to pile on her shoulders and she was beside herself by the time she reached the hospital. Inside and alone with Danny, she burst into tears.

"I never would have hurt Grace. It was just a normal night out. Just a simple dinner and a movie."

"I know. He lied to all of us, Rita. If you were stupid, then we were all in the same boat." Catherine had explained everything to Danny and he was now well-aware of every piece of the puzzle. The only very important person left was actually Rita Sawyer .. and her two fatherless sons.

"He was very good at what he did; too good." Danny offered her a wry grin. "Rita, he snookered the freaking FBI! Do you have any idea of their embarrassment right now and the trouble they are in with Governor Denning?"

His comments almost made her smile, but that faltered much too quickly when Danny continued talking. "Rita most of all, we hate what he's done to you." It was the truth as the woman dabbed at her eyes only to cry again.

"We want to help. I want to help." Rita heaved in a huge breath as she tried to settle her tattered nerves. She needed to know if Danny especially hated her, but he was already shaking his head before she could bluntly ask and smiling in understanding.

"When I get out of here, we should try for that movie again. Grace is not happy that she missed it. Up for seconds?"

"Really?" She choked out a sob and nodded before getting to her feet. With utmost care, she threw her arms around his neck. "I"m sorry Danny. I really am."

Her hand found his cheek and then his forehead when she pulled away. "You're still running a fever?"

"You're still this sick and here I am bothering you. Should I get your doctor?" She was worried for him and all he could do was shrug foolishly.

"I'm better, Rita and I'm glad you stopped by. I'll be home in no time."

At a loss once more and feeling responsible, Rita tried valiantly not to cry. "Please feel better and let me know if I can do anything for you."

And then she was gone leaving him teary-eyed in her wake and feeling almost ill by what Troy Sawyer had the gall to do his family. Not to mention the faceless young woman and toddler so many miles away. He wiped his eyes quickly as Steve re-entered the room in a whirlwind of worry.

"Okay?" Danny heaved a tolerant sigh for his personal watchdog's benefit and then tiredly grinned up at his partner's rather constipated expression.

"Yeah, like I said I'm fine." He wasn't though and Steve frowned unhappily. He shivered from a feverish chill and winced as his leg began to ache where the drain remained. Danny tried to deflect the attention from himself by keeping the subject on Rita, ignoring Steve's disapproving look.

"We need to help her. She's devastated and shouldn't be alone .. and the boys. I don't know how they're going to get past all of this." Steve nodded in agreement as he watched Danny aimlessly rub at the pain in his thigh.

"Cath is close to her and will be there for her, too. She's been with Rita almost every day. But you need to get back in bed, Danny." Wheeling the chair closer and being mindful of the ever-present IV and the wounded leg, Steve helped Danny through the few steps to get back under the covers. That bit of help allowed him to feel the sick heat rising from Danny's body and Steve quickly retrieved another blanket from the foot of the bed. Danny was shivering and closing his eyes as he sank into the pillows.

"Has Ponch been in here to see you yet?" The prior day, Danny had seemed to be well on the mend. He had expected to find Danny ready to check out of the hospital that very day. However, Steve was now sure that the tenacious fever was back with its own stubborn vengeance.

"No. Too early." Danny breathed out softly. He was tired of feeling sick and while it had helped them both overcome the first hurdle, Rita's unexpected visit left him completely sapped of energy. Forcing his eyes open, he peered up at Steve.

"Have you two made up?" The devilish question threw Steve for a moment but that was nothing compared to the deep, booming query behind him.

"Well have we, Commander?" Ponch's voice echoed ominously from the doorway.

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: Well, this morphed into something completely unexpected and I hope you like it! Thanks to JazzieG for impeccable Beta work. And - this is fun - thanks to CinderH and Synbou for adding some really fantastic thoughts and extra dialogue! This chapter was truly a team effort.
> 
> 1\. "Bummahs, Uncle." = Dang or darn it or that's awful or that's a shame or that's too bad. Using 'Uncle' is not a sign of disrespect.
> 
> 2\. "Ah, shoots den, Doc." = Okay, bye now or Okay, see you later.
> 
> 3\. "Lolo" = stupid

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

"Yes, of course you have. He has, too. Right, Steven?" Before Steve could reply, Danny had spoken on his behalf. His voice was subdued and for that, Ponch knit his brow worriedly as he entered the room. Danny's hands were still moving aimlessly through the air as he first pointed to the doctor and then to Steve.

"Yes, he knows you were right and he apologizes for treating your staff like boorish mules." Danny grinned at his success when he saw each finally smile before closing his eyes. He was tired of the arguing and what seemed like an ongoing list of incessant problems that insisted upon colliding in his personal space. He didn't feel well and wasn't in the mood for two of his friends to be at odds. Especially when he was the most unwilling catalyst with no memory at all of what had happened. With another abstract wave of his hand, Danny's voice dropped tiredly.

"Don't have time for you two to be acting like five-year olds with skinned knees. Play nice." The two men were incredibly alike and he was amused by their odd dance which would have eventually brought them full circle to peace. But he didn't feel like waiting for that natural occurrence, so his last comment had them both chuckling.

"I agree. Though this was beyond that of children." Needing the last word, Ponch's grave expression gave way to an easy smile punctuated by an off-hand shrug which Steve had no issue accepting. Casually removing his stethoscope from where it hung around his neck, he was happy to lay a friendly hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Yes. I think we know where the other stands."

"We do and we always play nice, Danny. Well .. most of the time." Agreement was easy and Steve completely relaxed as he stepped aside for the doctor to examine his partner.

"He's .. uh .. feeling a bit off."

"Off, Steven? I'm not a carton of milk." The whisper was highly offended as Ponch moved aside the hospital gown to listen to Danny's heart and lungs before taking his temperature. "I already said I was fine. No poking."

Ponch raised an eyebrow as he leaned back and then moved down to Danny's leg to examine the drain. "This can be removed today."

He was generally pleased since everything appeared to be in order except for his patient's temperature and obvious discomfort. "But no, you are not yet quite fine, Detective. This is going in the wrong direction."

Looking around the room, the doctor noticed the barely eaten breakfast. "Not hungry this morning either?"

Pinching the space between his eyes, Danny shook his head to the negative. "I've had better breakfast options."

"Malasadas or cocoa puffs are not the breakfast of champions, Danno." Steve's complaint ridden huff prompted a short glare before Danny went back to rubbing his forehead. Neither man missed the fact that Danny not so discreetly used his middle finger to rub the supposed ache from his head.

"Says you." He griped unhappily. But Ponch watched his weary patient for a few moments before making a decision. To Danny's chagrin, the nasal cannula was duly put back into place.

"The new course of antibiotics are not working as I had hoped." Ponch folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. Giving Danny a warning look when he itched at the cannula, Ponch held up his finger.

"I don't believe this is anything to be overly alarmed about. However, the oxygen stays, the pulse ox stays and I'll be prescribing a change to a stronger battery of antibiotics after we do a few more blood tests." Danny rolled his eyes in total disgust. "I'll have the nurses call you up a lighter breakfast which you need to eat, and then .. sleep."

There was no real retort for anything Ponch said though Danny sighed dramatically. He wasn't hungry and something lighter meant something  _worse_. Blood tests meant needles and he wasn't keen on that concept even though it obviously was going to be necessary.

"Fine. I'll be here." Slightly depressed, Danny made a face. "I have no where to go. Obviously."

Disliking what he heard, Ponch hesitated at the overly sullen tone. "I know that it seems as if you're in a bit of trouble again, Detective."

"Sorry." Danny sighed audibly before closing his eyes. Based on the way he was feeling, the long list of next steps wasn't unexpected as much as exhausting; plus, the use of his job related title instead of his real name was equally overwhelming now. Doctor Ramirez had certain habits and this one in particular suddenly pricked his nerves.

"It's more than a bit, isn't it Doc? Don't think for once that we never notice you address us by title when things are bad ... or when you're worried," he added softly as a minor rant of sorts. Ponch was rendered speechless by the observation. Behind him, he sensed Steve shifting on his feet as an uncomfortable silence drifted across the room. There was also an odd sympathetic note for himself that gave him additional momentary pause. The doctor wondered if his patient was now actually attempting to comfort him?

Ramirez's face was creased with heavy, thoughtful lines as he studied Danny and tried to understand what had just happened. It was testament to what had become a closer friendship and he cleared his throat self-consciously.

"Alright, yes." He gave Danny's shoulder a gentle squeeze to convey his own feelings. "Maybe a little more than a bit and I don't like it. But we'll get it sorted out and have you feeling better in no time. Get some rest, Danny."

Steve followed Ponch as he left the room to submit his medical orders. "What's wrong with him? Why is he taking such a step backwards?"

"I don't expect this to be more than a blip until we get him on the right medications. His last blood tests identified another strain of bacteria in his system; this one is most commonly found in soil so he likely picked it up while on that island. I'd like to re-run those tests to confirm what we're dealing with. My purpose in changing out his meds was to take care of it quickly, but bacteria can be virulent as you know." Still emotional by the brief discussion with Danny, Ponch smiled soothingly at Steve who had started to pace a short path in the hallway.

"He's going to be fine. And I do believe I told you that he needed to be on at least a full five-day course of broad spectrum antibiotics. Possibly up to seven days since his immune system has been compromised."

"Yeah, you did." Steve nodded worriedly. "Five days would have been today or no later than tomorrow morning. So now, you want the full seven?"

"I do." Ponch gave him a friendly one-sided grin. "I'm sure he'd like to get out of here as well but these things can't be rushed. I'll get to the bottom of it, trust me on that."

Before turning towards the nurse's station, the doctor stopped again. "I'm calling up a new tray. Get some food into him and then get him to sleep." The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the elevators opened to an alarming number of people.

A quick headcount had Steve smiling, however Ponch's mouth dropped open in surprise. Grace and Rachel emerged first carrying a fancy potted plant with Catherine and Kono hot on their heels. The two were joking about something and laughing almost too loudly. Grace saw the two men first and barreled head-long into Steve which forced the big doctor to back up to avoid being caught up in the thundering welcome.

Chin came next carrying not one, but two bakery boxes. He was vainly trying to shush the women but also laughing as he tried to balance the load of pastries. Ponch looked up in shock when a large Hawaiian rocked out last carrying a large tray of coffee and a bag slung over his arm that could only be more food.

"You might want to re-think that tray." Steve snickered as he easily swung Grace up into his arms with the barest hint of a wince for his healing neck. The withering look on the doctor's face came with another warning, though it was lacking.

"That tray is coming ... I leave it to you to get something decent into him." His eyes were laughing though as he gently pulled on Grace's long braid. "Decent, good food. Not sugar or anything too heavy when the man doesn't feel well!"

"I thought he was coming home." Grace's smile changed to a frown at Ponch's words as everyone gathered around the doctor. "Danno still doesn't feel good?"

He gazed across at her unhappy face before telling them all the truth. "He still has a bit of a fever. He needs rest and quiet. But I'm sure, no I am positive, that he'll feel better when he gets some happy visitors. Most of all you, Grace." It brought Grace's tentative smile back as Steve let her down to the floor.

"Just remember that he needs his rest, alright?" He admonished her gently as she raced down the hall to her father's room.

"Now. What is all this?" Ponch folded his arms threateningly while he looked at the array of food. He glared especially at Chin who was trying to hide the double-decker stacked layer of pastry boxes behind Kamekona's broad back.

"Liliha Bakery?" He bit his lip from smiling and then thought twice about saying more as he looked into each person's happily beaming face. Lieutenant Kelly finally looked more well-rested after what had been hours of undisturbed sleep. The onslaught of activity - within moderation - would undoubtedly be good for his patient. He was just about to stress that point when the much too loud shout of ' _Danno_!' and the accompanying ' _Monkey_!' made him cringe for the other patients housed on the floor.

"Rest, Commander. Quiet. Calm,  _rest_." Glaring at Steve as if it were his fault, Steve gave a funny grimace as more giggles emanated from the room. At the same time, Chin bobbled the boxes and Catherine lurched to grab the top one before it could tumble to the floor.

"Oops!" Cath gasped as she almost lost the box herself. Wide-eyed, Kamekona backed up too quickly and almost dropped his tray of coffee when the plastic bag of food hit the wall. Doctor Ramirez's attitude completely changed when the strong odor of garlic and shrimp assaulted his senses. As the smell wafted up, Ponch's eyes nearly bulged in a true horror.

"What is that? Is that garlic - garlic shrimp - at this hour of the morning?" They all winced at the severe tone then, but Kono couldn't stop from laughing at the doctor's completely appalled expression. Almost willing to overlook Liliha Bakery, the concept of what he now smelled was inconceivable.

"No." The doctor's eyes were wide as he stared in disbelief at Kamekona. "No. Absolutely not. I'm drawing the line."

"Sorry, Doc." Steve's attempt to hide a laugh was impossible at that point when he tried to apologize for them all. "The tray .. I got it .. decent food only."

His comical expression nearly doubled Catherine over as Chin tried to edge away from them to take refuge with Rachel who was already halfway to Danny's room.

"Bummahs, Uncle. These are good eats!" Not quite mortified enough, Kamekona offered the doctor his best customer winning grin as the smell of garlic oozed from the bag. He smiled broadly as he boggled the tray of coffee and tried to make sure his food hadn't spilled too badly.

"Howzit, brah?"

"Oh he didn't!" Kono nearly choked at his choice of words. "Lolo!" She hissed at him with a hearty laugh as they all quickly dispersed. However, Ramirez was bouncing on his toes in front of Kamekona who merely shrugged in confusion at being left behind with the suddenly irate older man.

"What?" Ramirez was stunned by the Hawaiian's attempt at an apology. "What did you just say? Did you just call me  _Uncle_?"

"Ah." Kamekona realized his error as the doctor's face reddened and he tried to give the man a wide berth to follow his friends. "Ah, shoots den, Doc."

With one more look at Kamekona's cartoonish shrimp truck t-shirt and tray of coffee cups which were now dripping messily over the sides of the cardboard tray and onto the linoleum floor, Ponch threw his hands up in the air and stalked down the corridor. The strong odor of garlic and shrimp was not only stuck in his nose, it drifted along to follow in his wake.

"Incorrigible. All of you. I give up."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	13. Chapter 13

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

"Obstinate. Fool." Ramirez didn't know if he meant himself or Danny or the tenacious infection that was only grudgingly giving up little by little as the doctor flooded Danny's bloodstream with aggressive antibiotics.

The visit with his friends and family had been a powerful balm. Moods were high and Danny had managed to eat. It was Grace who had intervened to get her father to eat at least some of the new food items brought up by a nurse's aide. That had worked by insisting that he needed to try something because she herself, wanted to. In fact, Doctor Ramirez needn't have worried about Kamekona and his gracious plate of steaming rice, garlic and shrimp since he had been told Danny turned a distinct shade of green as soon as a tiny bit of the noxious odor reached him. The experience was lasting and it unexpectedly had Danny waving off a cocoa puff or even a tiny portion of malasada. But with Grace's steadfast encouragement, his patient had actually cooperated with the hospital selection and things had gone quite well.

Shortly after, the visit had dwindled away naturally while still on a very happy note. Chin and Kono had gone into the office and Kamekona had trailed behind so he could open his food truck for lunch customers. Catherine insisted on driving Steve home; leaving Rachel and Grace to continue a more one-on-one special visit. And so, Danny was practically asleep by the time Doctor Ramirez returned to remove the drain in his injured leg and never budged for the nurse that rechecked his vital signs and temperature. Once that had been accomplished, Rachel and Grace had left quietly with promises to return the next day.

Everything had been fine until the last few hours. Perfectly fine after everyone had slowly left and as Danny fell into a deeper sleep; perfectly peaceful until the dreams had begun. Ponch heaved an aggravated sigh and scrubbed both hands over his face so hard his eyes so black sparkling dots before trying again.

"Danny, wake up." Gentle taps to the uninjured side of his cheek yielded a frown and a variety of unintelligible words, but he didn't awaken. The dreams were more the deep seated results of an active, worried mind than a too high fever. In fact, Ponch was relieved that they weren't the aggrieved hallucinations from a much too high temperature which Danny had experienced in the recent past. However, he was anxious to wake him so things wouldn't escalate.

"Detective. Danny. Enough of this now." He caught himself after saying the word ' _detective_ ' and nearly smiled as he automatically changed it. Ponch pinched the skin on the backs of his hands and then his forearms. He left angry red marks and still Danny only tossed his head on the pillow as he complained and even pleaded to be left alone.

"Let's go, Danny. Time to wake up and move on from this silliness."

Danny would agree wholeheartedly to Ponch's sentiments, too. He had fallen asleep after relaxing deeply into the pillows to listen to the happy buzz of talk around him. Grace was cuddled next to him in the bed and Rachel had been telling him about their daughter's success in tennis though he was barely hearing the words. He vaguely had heard the rest of the team discussing the case with the FBI. In the background, he remembered grinning to himself when he heard Kamekona's offended complaints to Catherine about the now cold garlic-shrimp dinner he had slaved over.

And so, everything would have been perfectly  _perfect_  if Billy and Troy Sawyer both hadn't visited him during that very deeply taken nap. As before, his old friend stood placidly at the foot of his bed reeking of seawater and leaving a murky puddle that spread until it encircled where he lay and began to rise. The difference was that Billy stayed Billy and he'd become an accomplice to Troy Sawyer.

He stayed Billy because he had tried to blend in amongst his friends. Another friend that wasn't exactly a friend anymore because he stood staring at Danny with Troy Sawyer's arm draped casually over his young shoulders. They looked almost like a very close father and son pair as they stood there between Kono and Steve while they laughed about something as if nothing was wrong. Danny tried to shout and warn them, but his mouth wouldn't work and he'd felt paralyzed.

There was something terribly wrong; it only worsened when Danny and Billy locked eyes and the teenager smiled happily.

Billy had finally come for him this time; and he couldn't wake up. Danny couldn't move and no one was helping him.

"No, Billy." The soft whisper was eerily sad and distinctly lost. "Can't .. go."

Ponch abruptly got up from where he had been sitting on the side of the bed. Danny's temperature was only slightly elevated and his oxygen saturation was optimal. He was pleased with the new course of antibiotics and Danny's vitals were now elevated, but indeed more stable. It was just after dinner - not even that late - and Ponch had merely stopped in the room to lambaste his patient about being prepared to eat the array of food which would shortly be arriving. He had found him instead in the throes of an obstinate bad dream. So that tray of food now sat idly by as the doctor folded his arms and growled in annoyance.

Behind him there was a soft knock on the door and he turned almost angrily, still in a mood, as Danny mumbled under his breath. "Troy? Stop .. can't." It wasn't loud enough for anyone but Ponch to hear and he swung back worriedly to place a soothing hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Something wrong? Do we have to tie him down and force-feed him?" At first, his eyes were laughing as Steve asked the question and saw the uneaten tray of food. But then he quickly measured the doctor's stern expression. His demeanor completely changed when Ponch didn't immediately answer and he heard the faint frightened murmurs from the bed.

"Again? He's hallucinating? Is it the fever? I thought he was fine when we left." Steve was there in less than four strides, concerned that the fever had spiked. He saw what the doctor did though as the dreams continued. Steve distinctly heard Sawyer's name and his eyes-widened at the subconscious hurt that obviously still needed to be resolved.

"No, bad dream. Can you wake him?" Ponch asked the somewhat simple question with an exasperated wave of the hand. "It's not necessarily the fever. He's over-tired, anxious, and stuck; or it could be from the medication, but he needs to wake up and move past this."

"It's more than that." Steve admitted as he explained some of the operation's personal background, the friendships that had been built, and then the terrible break in trust. " So much more, Doc."

"They were friends? Good friends?" The doctor was stunned by the news as Steve summed the treachery that spanned years and affected families, work colleagues, and friends alike. "I've never heard of such a thing. Not something this far-reaching and damning. He had two wives and two families - and no one knew?"

"He says that he's fine, but Danny's having a hard time with it." Steve didn't add that he was also having a difficult time, though he certainly was too. He carefully traced the smaller bandages that still remained on his neck. "Yeah, a very hard time."

"Obviously." Ponch shook his head in disgust as he leaned into the bed again. "So, then that part makes sense. But who is this Billy? Was he on the mission?"

"Not exactly." Steve didn't know what to say since Billy Selway was so very personal an issue. The reason he'd entered Danny's head had everything to do with the botched operation though. The loss, the near drowning, and the violence of what Sawyer had done brought it all to the fore.

"No, Billy and Danny grew up together and there was an accident where Billy died. He drowned in a riptide. Danny's never forgotten it."

The brief words were enough as Ponch absorbed their implications. The two events had merged together for whatever reason and he didn't actually need to know more than that.

"Alright then, let's try and wake him." It took an alarming twenty additional minutes for Steve and Ponch to bring Danny out of his deep funk. When they did, the dreams left him but the anxiety remained in their stead.

"Troy?" Danny whispered in confusion and Steve wearily closed his eyes as Danny searched the room. He was looking for the ex-agent and probably the teenage Billy Selway who both once again disturbed his sleep.

"They're here .. I .. it was so real." The reaction was so like what had happened in the ICU that it was distinctly depressing. Before Steve could object, Danny was doing it himself.

"Never mind. Forget it." He was angry as he focused and fully woke. He was even almost self-loathing by the residual feelings of fear when he saw their continued concern.

"I'm fine. I just need to get out of here already. It's that simple."

"We're going to have to talk about this, Danno." Steve said quietly as he raised the head of the bed. Billy was a different issue but he at least wanted and needed to purge Troy Sawyer from his partner's mind. Raising his finger in warning, he refused to listen again to the " _I'm fines_ " and " _don't worry about its_ " as Danny's mouth opened to disagree and then slammed shut in surprise.

"He hurt you, Danny. He hurt both of us not to mention his own family and people we don't even know in Ireland. He's destroyed everyone's trust on too many levels. They guy was never who he said he was and we all got played."

Standing by the bed and idly moving blankets around, Steve forced Danny to listen. "He almost killed you and you aren't just suddenly going to be fine."

Billy Selway was one thing unto itself. But Steve didn't know how either of them would actually forget Troy Sawyer since he had his moments at night. He had woken too many times that week to feel a non-existent knife slicing deeply into his neck while Sawyer's eyes gleamed in the darkness.

It hadn't mattered that someone else had held the blade; what Steve remembered was Sawyer's face. He remembered the blood thirsty look when he watched the Russian flay his skin so well. He remembered the man's expression when he'd taken over the  _Mariah_  and the glee when Marty had tossed Danny over the side. He was shocked by the sheer lack of empathy towards human life when he so easily left Danny to die.

"Too much." Steve muttered to himself. "Too much, for too long." They all needed to find a way.

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

"Do I have to say it?" Ponch smirked as he handed Danny a pair of crutches. The remark was more for Steve because the new course of medicines had done finally their trick and Danny's temperature was now normal. It was quite enough to win him release orders for that very day and Danny dressed in normal clothes, was well on his way off the bed.

"Fine. Yes, you told me so." Steve smirked back and then rolled his eyes as Danny mockingly glared at each of them. "You're a modern marvel, Ponch."

"Really? Is my health going to continue to be the fodder for your verbal sparring matches?"

"Fodder?" Steve chuckled happily as Danny sat poised on the edge of the bed where Ponch had stopped his forward motion. He was pale and shaky but anxious to get standing even if only that for a few seconds from bed to wheelchair. From then, it was on to home and fresh air.

"You're going to need help for at least a week, Danny." Ponch admonished him strongly as he held the wheelchair from moving and Danny eased himself over using the crutches the few steps needed for balance.

"That bandage has to be changed daily and you need to build both stamina and muscle-tone. But take it slow because you can't afford to get run down - it will only spark more trouble."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Danny griped loudly as he tried to dismiss the doctor's comments. He refused to look at Steve who was continuing to smirk like a large devilish cat who had trapped a canary much too easily. The man had already corralled him into the spare bedroom on the first floor of the rambling house with every excuse under the sun. The only thing Doctor Ramirez was providing Steve with now was more " _fodder_ " for his iron-clad arsenal.

"Nurse Ratched here is ready to roll. He's going to enjoy this - no doubt." The doctor grinned as Steve laughed out loud at the annoyed tone.

"You know it makes sense, Danny." The setup would also give them time to talk. Plus, Steve had orders to update Ramirez should any dreams or confusion re-occur.

There would be a get-together for the following day which included Rita Sawyer and her two sons; hopefully it would be enough for them all to get a firm handle on their feelings. In fact, Steve strongly felt that Rita and the boys would be the way for Danny to find that closure he so desperately needed. The widow's future and Aidan's and Brendan's security could over-ride and give a new purpose that would put Danny's feelings more into perspective. Or, at least share a sadly common feeling of betrayal for a man that they had once called husband, father and friend.

Maybe for all of them. But in particular for Danny since his friend was much too sensitive at the best of times. Steve brought himself out of those thoughts as Danny's voice rose in reply.

"No. It only makes sense to you since you are a complete and total control freak." Steve couldn't argue this time as Ponch chuckled at the ongoing banter. "You only want my car, anyway."

"That would make me Rainman then." Steve drawled annoyingly as Danny carefully got comfortable in the wheelchair and held the crutches clear of the floor so they could leave. "Are you ready now, Danno?"

"What have I told you about that? And am I not sitting here waiting for you to do something? The wheels usually roll forward when you push from behind." The annoyed reply was very caustic and Steve grinned more widely because some things were certainly getting back to normal.

"Let's go. I don't have all day, Steven."

"How big is your house again?" Ponch asked sarcastically as he trailed behind. "It's going to be a long, long week."

_**~ to be continued ~** _


	14. Chapter 14

*** H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 * H50 ***

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

He knew Steve was going to kill him if he woke and found him missing. The easy odds were that both would happen. Danny needed to walk though and gain space away from the oppressive house. It was actually an awkward hop and hobble really which became a staggered one-step gait as soon as the crutch failed in the sand. He huffed to himself in disgust because he would have been better off walking down the darkly quiet street. He kept going anyway even if the only unconscious direction of choice was towards the water.

Panting and covered in a sheen of sweat, Danny continued walking parallel now to the waves, passing and possibly even trespassing across private beaches and nooks until he couldn't see Steve's house anymore. And it wasn't even the house that was the problem. Danny was hoping to leave Billy and Sawyer there where they continued to stand silently at the foot of the bed. Any bed or any place he may have fallen asleep and it had all become too much that night.

Ponch would likely kill him, too, because he was stressing the healing wound in his leg. He could feel the heavy pull which he'd been warned was a sign of overworking the damaged muscle. Danny finally stopped walking when he couldn't catch his breath or find the energy to heave the one crutch forward another step. His marks in the wet sand had begun as an almost two-footed, pegged shadow. Now they ended as a dragged out deep line that scored the sand much like a drunken alien.

The night was nearly pitch dark and as he sank down next to a small out-cropping, Danny leaned his head back and closed his eyes. A wind was coming off the water and he felt its chill but was too tired to even react as it billowed his thin t-shirt. It would be something that both men would wind up killing him for if he got himself sick again. But those were passing thoughts as he sat there and tried to breathe through a true fatigue and ' _the dream with them'_. It wasn't a very inventive name, however Steve always knew when  _they_  plagued him - not that it took a rocket scientist to figure it all out.

The sliver of moon was mid-way through the sky, so Danny at least knew he'd slept a bit longer this time. With his bad leg stretched out in front of him, he cocked his good knee and rested his forehead on it. He was exhausted and constantly beating himself up for the inability to move on but it was the closest he'd come to dying in a long time. The closest at the hands of a supposed friend, in the one manner he greatly feared the most, and he was unable to get past it. Whenever he thought of Sawyer, he saw himself being discarded over the side of the boat and nearly giving up to drown - just like Billy.

He relived every second of his time in Marty's hands, then in the water and he remembered the pain of coming so close to drowning. He was so weakened and devastated at the time, that thoughts of Grace couldn't keep him afloat. He'd killed Steve; he'd been so sure of it.

But then he was always shocked - even now just by the truth of another memory - that Steve had miraculously arrived just in time.

"Just in time." He murmured as he tried to wrap his brain around that blessed fact. First massaging the pain in his leg, Danny switched to rub his hands over his face to hide a sharp, tired giggle.

"Every cop needs his own SEAL." He muttered under his breath, only to look up to see a distant shape jogging his way.

"Incredible." Nearly stunned into silence, Danny could only watch Steve lengthen his stride when he spotted him sitting. "And here's mine now." He almost giggled again but the threat of exhausted tears surprised him and he forced himself to look out across the Pacific.

It was well past two o'clock in the morning when Steve suddenly woke staring at the ceiling. The house was quiet and he wasn't certain what had disturbed his sleep. The larger get-together had been postponed at Catherine's request since Rita wasn't ready yet to be put on display. The team was almost offended by the words, but they understood and they'd reschedule when Rita herself, was more in control of her emotions.

Instead, the smaller team of friends had a much simpler pot-luck dinner that included Kamekona and a re-do of his gourmet offerings for Danny. Of which this time, it was much more well-received. It had been just enough time and attention for the healing man, too.

Steve lay in bed for less than one minute before getting up in one smooth motion. A stronger breeze was rustling his curtains and the few papers that he had left on his night-stand. Those things could have woken him, but he frowned as he listened harder. Berating himself for worrying, he snuck downstairs to peek into the spare bedroom and waited for his eyes to adjust in the poor light.

"Damn it, Daniel." Blankets were strewn half on the bed and half on the floor. A pillow lay under the nightstand and along with Danny, one crutch was also missing. Another nightmare had torn his partner's sleep and this time, Danny had left the house. He knew that intuitively as he left the bedroom, walked down the short hallway and then went directly through the partially open door to the lanai. Steve did curse though when he saw the manually disengaged alarm blinking benignly on the wall.

It took him nearly twenty minutes to find his partner after picking up the ungainly tracks in the wet stand. He knew he'd find Danny soon when the tracks became more broken as he lost steam and dragged his crutch painfully forward.

"I'm going to kill him myself." Steve complained bitterly as he recognized a deeper track which looked as if Danny had nearly fallen. Picking up his pace, Steve could see the tracks in the dark about ten feet in front of him which was enough of a guide. When they veered slightly up away from the water's edge, he had some difficulty finding them in the dry sand but then he was close as he finally saw the distant shape huddled near a rock.

The crutch which was nearly useless in the sand now lay abandoned nearby. He wondered for the hundredth time how his injured partner had gotten as far as he had without virtually killing himself. Out of breath, worried and admittedly angry, Steve at first stood over him with clenched fists as a variety of colorful words flew through his mind. But what came out of his mouth only reflected his own anxiety.

"You scared the hell out of me. Why are you out here alone in the middle of the night?" He knew it was because of the damned dreams which were more like nightmares, but Steve was at a loss. Sweat glistened on Danny's forehead and his damp shirt was nearly stuck to his skin. And though he couldn't see much, Steve knew that Danny was pale and very far away.

"I needed to walk." Danny was staring blindly at the waves which were barely lit by the sliver of moon. Heavy clouds also darkened much of the night sky and Steve couldn't even see his features as he mumbled a faint apology.

"I thought I was quiet enough. Sorry."

"Just .. Danny." Completely exasperated, Steve folded down next to him in the sand. "What's going on? What can I do?"

The only response was a noncommittal shrug so they sat there quietly together each at a loss for words. Steve begging silently to know more, but Danny wholly unable to voice what he needed most.

"We should go in." Steve tried a different tactic as the wind picked up and the clouds thickened. The t-shirt Danny wore was thin and dismal protection against the chill.

"If you get sick again Ponch will have both of our heads, Danno."

"I don't." The words were so soft at first Steve didn't catch them. "I have no right to feel this way."

"What?" Steve prompted. "No right about what?"

"To feel this way. To be so damned personally upset." He was louder almost immediately as a suppressed rage jumped forward. His voice cracked dangerously as a hand flew out towards the sky.

"Who the hell am I to feel this way when he left not one, but two wives and three little kids like this? Their entire world was built around elaborate lies, they have nothing left ... and ... I'm upset?"

"You tell me what right he had, Danny?" Steve's own anger got the better of him as he ground out the words. It was all true, but they had all been hurt and scarred in different ways by one man.

"He masqueraded himself as a friend and then almost killed you. He lied to everyone for years and then almost killed you in the worst way possible."

With an effort, Steve pushed his voice intentionally lower. He closed his eyes because he saw Danny falling again and then drowning directly in front of his mind's eye under a wicked man's edict. "He was a dangerous, pathological liar. A skilled manipulator. He had no right at all and he got what he deserved in the end."

He felt more than heard the disagreeable sigh as Danny fidgeted next to him. "You're not listening to a word I say, are you?" Steve's voice rose again in utter frustration.

"Danny, you have every right because someone you thought was a friend betrayed your trust, tried to kill you and it almost worked. It was also close enough to Grace to threaten her well-being. So yeah, you have every right and if you think you're being selfish, than I am too."

He knew that Steve meant for him, but Danny's eyes were dark with stress as he finally stopped staring at the water to look at Steve. "He more than threatened you, too. Let's not forget that. He sold us both out in grand style."

"Yeah. There's that, too." He hung his head to thumb the ache that had settled between his eyes. Steve had his own demons but he was dealing with the fading sensation of the knife on his skin and determined to forget Sawyer's manic eyes. If the elaborate plan had worked, there was no doubt that they both would have long been dead by that point. By some divine intervention though, they were both sitting on the beach in the dark staring into a nearly moonless night.

"How did you do that, by the way?" Steve finally remembered what he'd been meaning to find out for days. "The  _Mariah_. How did you time that to blow at just the right moment?"

"I, uh." Danny blinked at him in surprise and then almost in embarrassment.

"It was sort of an accident. I only wanted to create a diversion; just a bit of a smoke bomb. I used some things I found in the bathroom and shoved them through the baseboard into the engine room. It ignited something .. I have no idea." His chuckle was genuine as he gently pulled Danny to his feet and handed him the sandy crutch. It really wasn't going to work all that well on the beach and he could easily see that Danny's energy was spent, so Steve took a firm hold of his elbow and then his waist.

"Are you intentionally trying to antagonize Ponch? If so, this is going to work." He was amazed again at how far Danny had gotten in the dark, by himself down to the shoreline as he insisted on taking more of his weight. To get them both moving, Steve grinned about the proposed accident.

"Well, it was the perfect  _accident_ , Danno. Do it again whenever the situation calls for it because I for one, will never complain."

"It only appeals to your penchant to blow things up." His laugh deepened at Danny's mortified retort. It had been a perfect accident of sorts and in no small part, it likely was the one factor that allowed them both to be there that very night. Danny wouldn't necessarily forget Troy Sawyer, but he needed to table him and not allow him to live so ominously with him every day.

"And by the way .. again? There will be no  _again_ , Steven. Boats, ships, yachts and dingys are officially off my bucket list. Even dock-based shake-downs during tsunami warnings! If it's not a land-based operation in the concrete jungle, don't bother to call me." Danny was grinning to himself as he allowed Steve to help him back to the house.

"Concrete jungle?" Steve nearly stopped walking as he repeated the words. "Danny, we live on an island."

"Thank you. Thank you very much, Steven." The snarky words that echoed back were laced with sarcasm and then both of them did laugh. "You just had to remind me."

As he took a tighter hold to support Danny's flagging but persistent strength, Steve was smiling. "What are friends for, Danno?"

**~ End ~**


End file.
